


Staccatos

by shandyall



Series: The Symphony Verse [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 13:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 99,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shandyall/pseuds/shandyall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The highs and lows of the boys, and their myriad of friends, during the two years they all grow up.  Some grow apart, others grow together, and everyone grows to love D.Marshall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Blaine stands in the kitchen, wearing boxers and t-shirt, gazing longingly into the refrigerator, as though frowning at it will make what he wants appear.

“I can’t b-b-believe you d-drank the last of the orange juice,” he says mournfully to Matt.

Matt sits just out of sight in the living room, watching a morning talk show, with a smirk on his face.

“I didn’t do it on purpose. I thought you said you’d pick some up on the way home yesterday.”

Blaine leans on the door frame between the kitchen and the living room, chugging a warm gatorade he had stashed in a cabinet, just for these emergencies. It isn’t the same.

“No. You s-s-s-said you’d pick some up on the, on the, on the way home.”

“It seems as though we’re at an impasse, old man,” Matt says nonchalantly. “What time do you have class?” he asks, trying to change the subject.

Blaine glances at the clock. “Um. A little over an hour. You?”

It’s Matt’s turn to look at the clock. “Huh. I should have left 10 minutes ago.” He leaps off the couch and grabs his backpack.

“This is not a great way to start the new semester,” Matt says as he closes the door.

Blaine chuckles and wanders into the bathroom to take a shower.

~~~~~

September 8  
@11:07 am  
Blaine: For each day that you do not bring me orange juice, I will hide one of your socks.  
Blaine: To show you I’m serious I’ve already hidden two.  
Blaine: two socks from two different pairs are hidden somewhere in this apartment.  
Blaine: BRING ME SOME FUCKING ORANGE JUICE.

11:12 am  
Matt: Who cares. It’s September. I don’t really need socks for at least 2 months.

11:13 am  
Blaine: Are you saying that you’re not going to buy me orange juice for 2 months?

11:15 am  
Matt: I’m saying that you are a grown ass man who can purchase his own morning time juice related needs.

11:17 am  
Blaine: MATTHEW. It’s your turn to purchase the orange juice.

11:18 am  
Matt: BLAINERS.  
Matt: that’s it. That’s the text.  
Matt: My professor just gave me the stinkeye. We’ll continue this later.

~~~~~

Aside from the ongoing orange juice stand off with Matt, Blaine’s day goes swimmingly. He has his first Contemporary American Lit part two class with Kurt and then he has work, followed by his Tuesday night dinner date with Kerry. (Matt doesn’t have class on Tuesday nights this semester but it’s become a very strict tradition between Blaine and Kerry. It’s quality Blerry-time. Or at least that’s what Matt and Kurt call it when they’re gently mocking their significant others.)

They go for Mexican, as they so often do. Blaine is eating his way through the menu. So far it’s a big thumbs up on the shrimp tacos, but a big thumbs down on the steak and lime burrito. Tonight he’s feeling a chicken quesadilla.

Sometimes he still needs help ordering, if it’s an expedience issue. Like if there’s a long line and an obviously impatient counter person, he’ll get someone else to order for him. Because time after time it’s those situations that leave him fumbling for words.

Tonight though, Blaine feels good.

Truth be told, he’s been feeling good all summer (except for the two or three days after he got his wisdom teeth out). He and Kurt went back to Ohio for a week and a half during June and it gave him enough time to hang out with his parents and really start to fix things with his dad. Blaine took him up on his offer to go to therapy together and it was … illuminating.

Turns out they have a lot of very similar insecurities but his dad has spent his whole life pushing them down and running away and giving himself ulcers. And while sometimes Blaine deals with his issues the same way, the best thing that could have happened to him was seeing Paula on a regular basis for 5 years. He had someone to listen to him, without judgment, and it seems like that’s something his father never had.

And while Blaine knows that his mom would have listened to his dad without judgment, it’s like his dad never bothered to try. He’s not sure he’s ever really going to understand their relationship. It has a dynamic that suits them, he assumes.

Beyond making some headway with mending his relationship with his dad, the whole summer was really quite wonderful. His speech has been good, cutting down on therapy has been fine, his relationship with Kurt is sort of miraculous, his job as a music counselor was fantastic, and he has friends. Honest to goodness friends. Like, 8 of them, but who’s counting?

He orders his chicken quesadilla and Kerry orders a shrimp taco, at Blaine’s insistence, and tonight he lets her pay. Sometimes it’s important to accept things from friends graciously. Blaine is in one of those moods where he basically can’t wipe the shit eating grin off his face.

He and Kerry sit across from each other in a booth near the back, chatting about a lot of different things, mostly about their classes, but also other stuff, like Tina’s boyfriend (who neither of them have met) is coming to visit the next weekend, and a concert Kerry wants to go to.

Blaine’s off on a tangent about one of the kids at work when he notices that Kerry’s been quiet for a few minutes.

“Sorry,” he rolls his eyes. “This must be getting b-b-boring. Suffice to, to, to say that the little fucker annoys the bejesus out of mmmm-me and I think it’s because he’s essentially what would happen if Matt had a b-b-baby with a honey b-badger.”

Kerry lets out a little giggle, but doesn’t say anything in return.

“Kerry?” Blaine says with a question in his voice. “Are you okay?”

Now he’s concerned. Kerry’s usually more talkative than he is, but tonight he feels like he’s doing a lot of the work.

She rubs a hand across her eyes.

“We’re friends, right Blaine?” she starts.

“Of course,” he says.

“I want to talk to you about something. But I don’t know if it’s really... fair. To talk to you about.”

“If you’re thinking about br-br-bra-breaking up with Matt, I-I-I don’t know if I can listen to this,” Blaine says. He’s nothing if not loyal to Matt. “I m-mean, just cause I-I-I can’t promise I wouldn’t tell him. And that wah-wouldn’t be fair to, to, to you, ya know?”

“I know. And no, it’s not that. Not really. Well, I guess it could turn into that. Not right away, I mean, I don’t even know if it’s going to work out. But, I...” Kerry stops. She’s babbling. She knows she’s babbling. It’s probably not fair to talk to Blaine about certain things. But he’s so level-headed. He always has such a great perspective.

“Well, n-n-now I’m curious,” Blaine says.

“Okay. Well,” Kerry’s unsure how to continue. “So as you’re quite aware, I’m a senior.”

“And Matt is not,” Blaine supplies.

“Yes. And I’ve been thinking that I would stay in the city after I graduate. Maybe he and I could move in together. Maybe I would go to grad school. Or just find a job and plan out the rest of my life on the fly. But, a couple weeks ago I started looking into alternatives. Like teaching English in Japan or joining Habitat for Humanity.”

Blaine’s listening, nodding, patiently waiting for her to get to her point. Kerry realizes that’s exactly why she wanted to run this by Blaine first. He’s the most patient person she’s ever met. It’s like a dress rehearsal for telling Matt.

Kerry sucks in a deep breath. “I think I’ve decided to join the Peace Corps.”

Blaine is taken aback. Kerry’s never said anything about wanting to join the Peace Corps. Kerry’s never said anything about not wanting to stay in the city after she graduates. Any time the subject comes up, it’s basically Kerry saying she’ll graduate and find a job and figure out the rest of her life as it develops.

“I’ve been reading up on all the different programs,” Kerry continues. “And I think it would be a really incredible experience. Realistically I don’t have money for grad school and my parents don’t have money for grad school and I already have so many students loans and this could be like the best plan for me.” She sighs. “I don’t want to leave Matt. But I think I’m going to have to leave Matt.” She smiles sadly at Blaine.

“Tell me m-m-more,” Blaine prods.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Of course not. Just … d-d-don’t make me keep this from, from, from Matt for too long.”

“I won’t, I need to figure it all out before I talk to him though. The application’s due at the end of the month, so I don’t have much time.”

“Well, talk it out. Sometimes talking is the b-b-b-best thing for an idea. Maybe you’ll find that you don’t even really w-w-w-want to go.” It’s sort of wishful thinking on Blaine’s part. He knows he really doesn’t want Kerry to leave. He can only imagine how Matt is going to feel about it.

“I think I want to go Blaine. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. I didn’t know how to tell anyone.”

“Okay,” Blaine tries to stay neutral. “Tell mmmm-me details. Why do you want to, to, to do this so much? Not about the m-m-money stuff, but like, make me understand.”

So she does.

Blaine feels better after she gives him the full rundown. Kerry promises to tell Matt soon.

“You should tell him be-be-be-before you send in the application.”

“Really?”

“Kerrrrrry,” Blaine implores.

“I know, I know. He’ll think I’m doing all this behind his back.”

“Yes. And you know I s-s-suck at keeping s-s-secrets from him.”

“He’ll be okay, right?”

Blaine nods.

“You’ll help him?”

Blaine smiles. “If he lets m-m-me.”

“He’ll let you.”

“Tell him soon, Ker.”

She nods.

They finish their food in relative silence, both of them thinking about what comes next.

~~~~~

The next night Blaine’s watching tv in the living room when Matt walks in with a somber look on his face. He shuts the door behind him and leans on it, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling.

Blaine mutes the tv and leans his elbows on his knees, waiting for Matt to say something.

“She told me she talked to you,” Matt says, starting from the middle of a thought, rather than trying to fill in the gaps. It’s one of the side effects of being friends with Blaine, they sometimes speak in a language of shorthand that gets right to the point.

“She needed sssss-someone to talk to. I-I-I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I get it.” Matt sighs. “I feel like I shouldn’t be this sad already. I mean, she hasn’t even applied yet. They could reject her for being tiny, or for being an unabashed ginger or something. Or she could decide not to go. But it feels like she’s going to go.”

“Yeah, she seemed pretty r-r-r-res-resolute about the idea,” Blaine agrees.

“So what do I do?” Matt asks.

Blaine has never, ever seen Matt look this … down. Not that Matt is an emotionless freak or something, but he doesn’t tend to let things get him down and keep him down. He’s good at coping and shaking things off and moving on. But right now, Matt looks sad in a way that a couple of beers and a good conversation isn’t going to be enough to solve.

So, Blaine does the only thing he can think of.

He stands up on their coffee table and puts his arms out to hug Matt.

Matt smirks, but Blaine can see tears gathering in his eyes.

“Hugs are always beh-beh-better from people who are, are, are taller than you,” Blaine explains earnestly.

Matt lets Blaine hug him. He doesn’t cry, but he’s close. Blaine wishes he had something to say, but instead he gives Matt a few hardy pats on the back and tries to pull away. Matt hugs him tighter and Blaine feels bad for his friend.

At least until Matt says “Good lord, Blaine. Your pecs are fantastic.”

Blaine pushes him away, and hops off the table.

“You r-r-r-really need to control yourself, Matthew.”

“Why are my pecs not as good as yours, though?” Matt grabs Blaine’s hand and puts it on his chest. “Feel my pecs.”

“I thought we, we, we were going to have a nice mo-mo-moment, and you have to turn it creepy.”

Matt’s face falls a bit and he shrugs. “Creepy’s better than sad,” Matt tells him, before perking up again. “We should call Puck. I think I want to get drunk and get in a fight.”

“Works for mm-me,” Blaine says. “But you r-r-realize you might feel wah-worse in the morning?”

“I know. I don’t really know why I’m so bummed at this point. There’s nothing I can do about it. Kerry’s her own person. I dunno.” Matt frowns. “I guess I want to prepare myself?”

“Yeah, that works. What do you want to drink? You want me to run out and get something?”

“Moonshine?” Matt says. “Either that or a magic elixir that will make my pecs even half as nice as yours.”

Blaine rolls eyes.

~~~~~

September 9  
@10:02 pm  
Blaine: Hey dumdum, Matt’s bummed. There’s some stuff going on with Kerry.  
Blaine: I’ll give you the rundown next time I see you  
Blaine: But for now we’re gonna call Puck, get drunk, maybe get in a fight. Do you want to join the fun?

10:05 pm  
Kurt: aw, poor Matt. Tell him I said poor Matt. But I have zero interest in drinking/fighting  
Kurt: *some* of us have work in the morning  
Kurt: Love you, talk to you tomorrow, don’t do anything too stupid  
Kurt: But as always, I solemnly promise to bail you out jail

10:09 pm  
Blaine: Got it. :) Love you too

10:10 pm  
Kurt: I like dumdum, that could be the nickname name like poop/poophead

10:12 pm  
Blaine: Okay dumdum <3

~~~~~

September 10  
@11:44 am  
Kurt: how was last night?  
Kurt: I’m thinking no news is good news?

12:52 pm  
Blaine: ow

12:54 pm  
Kurt: ????

12:55 pm  
Blaine: the sun is my enemy

12:57 pm  
Kurt: I take it last night went well?

12:58 pm  
Blaine: went to Puck’s  
Blaine: played beer pong til 3 am  
Blaine: no strike that  
Blaine: lost beer pong til 3 am  
Blaine: It’s really no wonder that Puck spends so much time at your apartment  
Blaine: if he didn’t, his life would be like a non-stop Nelly video

1:02 pm  
Kurt: at least he wants his life to be a non-stop Nelly video

1:04 pm  
Blaine: YES THAT IS WHY I LOVE YOU  
Blaine: you always get my Veronica Mars references

1:10 pm  
Kurt: I suddenly feel like I’m in a scene from “The Outsiders”

1:11 pm  
Blaine: Be cool Soda Pop.

1:13 pm  
Kurt: Such a great show. Except for Piz.

1:15 pm  
Blaine: See, I liked Piz. I could never understand your ish with Piz.  
Blaine: I mean, I guess he was kind of bland.

1:18 pm  
Kurt: Blaine for the umpteenth time, he was just a plot device. LoVe was endgame.

1:21 pm  
Blaine: Don’t you have something else you should be doing at work besides yelling at me about your defunct otps?

1:24 pm  
Kurt: don’t you have class or something? You layabout? I am ashamed of you.

1:25 pm  
Blaine: Nah, I’m just a good-for-nothing malingerer.

1:28 pm  
Kurt: brb looking up malingerer  
Kurt: Hmm. I suppose I can agree with that definition.  
Kurt: And here I thought you were going to be my sugar daddy.

1:31 pm  
Blaine: Oh, well I do have work this afternoon. And then I have class tonight. But somehow I ended up with Thursday mornings off.

1:33 pm  
Kurt: It hasn’t been morning for an hour and a half.

1:34 pm  
Blaine: Oh shit fuck hell.  
Blaine: I have to shower.  
Blaine: I smell like a fermented roadkill.

1:37 pm  
Kurt: Attractive.

1:40 pm  
Blaine: It’s frowned upon to smell like fermented roadkill when you’re around children.

1:41 pm  
Kurt: I thought you were showering.

1:42 pm  
Blaine: Who says I’m not? I can text and shower.  
Blaine: Showering, eating food, going to work, going to class, being a good sugar daddy.

1:44 pm  
Kurt: excellent plan  
Kurt: what time are you done with class?

1:47 pm  
Kurt: Blaaaaaaaaaine.  
Kurt: you’re in the shower.  
Kurt: I shall leave lots of messages for you  
Kurt: you will appreciate them when you return from cleaning your body.  
Kurt: your hot hot body

1:49 pm  
DiDi: what time do we have sign language tomorrow?

1:51 pm  
Kurt: Your rockhard abs and your stupid face  
Kurt: Not to mention that poop that you call a head.  
Kurt: I was thinking about sending you some dirty texts  
Kurt: but then I remembered that you work with children  
Kurt: and this would totally be the time that one of them would unlock your phone and go through your texts and find dirty things that your boyfriend sent you  
Kurt: dirty things  
Kurt: penis.  
Kurt: butt.  
Kurt: penis  
Kurt: butt  
Kurt: ASSHOLE.  
Kurt: put a penis in your butt.  
Kurt: you have a very nice butt. It’s all round. And not too hairy.  
Kurt: Your hair to butt ratio is perfect. In case you were wondering.  
Kurt: these messages just went to the creepy place.  
Kurt: Let me get back on track.  
Kurt: BLOW JOBS.

1:58 pm  
Blaine: KURT

1:59 pm  
Kurt: Oh hello there.

2:01 pm  
Blaine: you think you’re cute don’t you?

2:02 pm  
Kurt: Obviously.

2:04 pm  
Blaine: I think you’re cute too. :)

2:05 pm  
Kurt: Blushing font.

2:07 pm  
DiDi: Oh shit. We have sign language tonight don’t we. I forgot what day it was.  
DiDi: again.

2:09 pm  
Blaine (to DiDi): yep! at 7.  
Blaine (to DiDi): It’s Thursday DiDi. Today is Thursday.

2:11 pm  
DiDi: It’s because last semester we had sign language Mon, Wed, Fri  
DiDi: And this semester is Mon, Wed, Thurs  
DiDi: AND IT’S CONFUSING BLAINE

2:14 pm  
Blaine (to DiDi): I know. The days of the week are a difficult concept. I mean, there are seven of them. They don’t even go in alphabetical order or anything.

2:17 pm  
DiDi: 

2:19 pm  
Blaine (to DiDi): Giving me the finger via text is really good practice for sign language lab tonight. Bravo.

2:20 pm  
Kurt: HEY YOU DID YOU FORGET ABOUT ME

2:21 pm  
Blaine (to Kurt): Never. I was just explaining the days of the week to DiDi. She was confused.

2:23 pm  
Kurt: It’s good she has a friend like you to explain these things.  
Kurt: I have to go be productive now.  
Kurt: How bout I meet you after class tonight? By the language lab, right?

2:23 pm  
DiDi: I figured you’d appreciate that.

2:25 pm  
Blaine (to Kurt): YES. YAY. I’ll be done at 8:15. Come pick me up dumdum!  
Blaine (to Kurt): Love you, work time! BYE!

2:26 pm  
Kurt: Love you too, poop. :)

2:27 pm  
Blaine (to DiDi): Totally appreciated it. See you tonight.

2:28 pm  
Blaine (to Matt): I noticed that there was orange juice in the refrigerator.  
Blaine (to Matt): Thank you and your socks will be returned post haste.

2:52 pm  
Matt: NOOOO. Keep hiding them. It’s fun. It’s like a game.

4:18 pm  
Blaine: eye roll.


	2. Chapter 2

To: Blaine, From: Cooper  
Date: Sun, Oct 4, 12:38 pm  
Subject: Visit

Hey!

I’m going to be in NYC next weekend, and I was hoping you and Kurt would like to go out to dinner. I’m going to be bringing my new girlfriend, Katinka, with me, and I’d really like you guys to meet her.

I’ll be in town for work, but I have Thursday the 8th free or Saturday the 10th. Let me know!

~~~~~

To: Cooper, From: Blaine  
Date: Sun, Oct 4, 1:14 pm  
Subject: re: Visit

That is easily the weirdest email you’ve ever sent me. Why is it so weird? It has like sentence structure and punctuation. You used two exclamation points? It’s so weird, Coop.

I’ll check with Kurt, but I think Saturday will work better. I have class until 8:15 on Thursday nights.

Also, Katinka?

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Cooper  
Date: Sun, Oct 4, 1:52 pm  
Subject: re: Visit

Okay, fine. It was a weird email.

Saturday night works. How about around 7? Pick a restaurant and we can meet there.

I just want you to like her. Hence my enthusiastic use of exclamation points.

And yes, Katinka. She’s Serbian.

~~~~~

To: Cooper, From: Blaine  
Date: Sun, Oct 4, 2:04 pm  
Subject: re: Visit

I’m sorry, I wasn’t making fun of her. It looks like a completely made up name. How did you meet her?

Seven sounds good. How about at that Italian place we went to last time? This way you’ll know where to go.

~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Cooper  
Date: Sun, Oct 4, 2:13 pm  
Subject: re: Visit

It’s not made up. It’s a diminutive of Katherine.

She works with me. People give her a hard time about her accent sometimes. I just don’t like hearing them. One day one of the partners was being an ass to her in front of a lot of people and I felt the need to defend her. It was such bullshit. I mean, she’s fairly feisty, and probably would have stood up for herself, but she told me later that she didn’t want to get fired. Anyway, we started talking more at work, and I asked her out.

Italian place we went to last time at 7. Got it. I’ll text you when I’m in town.

~~~~~

A note between Kurt and Blaine in lit class  
10/6/2015

Wow, I’m impressed.

Don’t make fun of me.

I’m not. I’m really impressed.

Did I sound okay?

You sounded really good.

Are you lying?

When do I lie to you about this stuff?

I dunno. You’re nice to me. Did anyone laugh?

Nope.

It’s Chad’s challenge this week. Talk in every class.

Well you can check this one off the list.

You know how like I’m kind of weird?

Yes. I’m familiar with this phenomenon. (even though I don’t actually think you’re weird.)

(I am. I swear.) When Chad gives me these challenges, sometimes I make bargains with myself. Like I’ll tell myself “If you do well speaking in this class then fill-in-the-blank will go well.” And before I raised my hand, I told myself that if I do well speaking in this class then I’ll do well on Saturday with Cooper’s girlfriend.

Is that actually bargaining?

I don’t know, I can’t really think of a better word for it. So, I really did okay?

Yeah. You did really well. Are you really that nervous about meeting Cooper’s girlfriend?

Kind of.

Any specific reason?

The usual. Just nervous about making a good impression, and feeling shy because, well, obviously, I’m shy.

You’re super cute, too.

Thank you. :) I don’t know if that’s going to help me with Cooper’s girlfriend.

You don’t really need help though. Just be yourself.

Ha. Haha.

Ha.

Ha.

Ha.

Sarcasm, Blaine?

Yep.

~~~~~

Kurt and Blaine arrive at the restaurant a bit early, so they head inside to sit at the bar. Blaine’s nervous, like he knew he would be, and a quick drink never hurt anybody.

When their drinks are in front of them, Kurt inches his bar stool closer to Blaine, and grabs Blaine’s hand.

“Hey, calm down. I can feel you vibrating with anxiety.”

Blaine shrugs and takes several deep breaths.

Blaine hasn’t been this nervous in a long time. But it’s good for him really. He does well within his usual routine, but it’s good to have these obstacles pop up every once in awhile. If he just goes about his life, talking to the same people day after day, he’ll never be challenged. He needs to keep the right frame of mind and think of things like meeting new people as an opportunity to practice his speech. At least, according to Chad that’s what he needs to do. Sometimes Blaine thinks Chad’s a stupid freaking liar.

Kurt rubs a soothing circle on Blaine’s back and kisses his shoulder. “You are endearing. You have nothing to worry about.”

The sentiment makes Blaine grin into his drink.

A few minutes later, they see Cooper come through the door, big smile on his face, leading a young woman through the throng of people.

Cooper greets both Blaine and Kurt with warm hugs, before stepping back.

“Blaine, Kurt,” he says gesturing at each boy in turn and then threading an arm around the small woman’s waist before pushing her forward a bit and saying “This is Katinka!”

She’s shorter than Cooper, but only by a few inches, putting her at 5’8 or 5’9. Her hair isn’t plain brown, it’s a deep chestnut, and even in the dim light of the restaurant, Kurt can see it’s healthy and cared for. Her eyes are chocolate brown and her skin tan, like she works outside, maybe gardening.

Kurt likes her instantly, and he recognizes a nervousness in her smile that reminds him immediately of Blaine.

Blaine’s too nervous at the moment to recognize anything about her smile, he’s just doing his best not to hide behind Kurt.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Katinka says with a thick, though very understandable accent.

Blaine swallows and his lips twitch. “It’s nice to … mmm-mmm-mmm-meet you, too.”

Kurt gives Blaine’s arm a quick rub, a silent “see? you did fine?” And he can feel Blaine relax a tiny bit.

“Cooper tells me so much about you,” she says to Blaine, smiling broadly at him.

Blaine smiles and blushes, unsure of how to respond. Instead he gestures towards the maitre’d.

“I-I-I mm-made reservations,” he says, his expression open and hesitant at the same time.

“Like on the phone?” Cooper teases, putting his hands up to his cheeks in mock surprise.

“Yes,” Blaine says simply and seriously, though Kurt can see the smile in his eyes. He’s sure Cooper can too, when Cooper winks at Blaine and gives his shoulder a squeeze.

They’re led to their table, and Cooper orders them a bottle of wine. They discuss the specials and look over their menus. After their order is placed a silence falls over the table.

“So, how’s everything going, B?” Cooper asks.

“Um, good. You?” Blaine addresses the table cloth.

“Cooper says you are studying to be a teacher?” Katinka chimes in.

Blaine smiles and nods enthusiastically.

“What kind of teacher will you be?” Katinka asks.

“Um. A, um. A mm-mm-mm-music teacher,” Blaine says.

“I didn’t know you’d settled on that,” Cooper says.

“Yeah, I had bb-bb-been thinking about b-b-b-b-b-being a kindergarten teacher,” he says, glancing at Katinka, filling her in on the details. Being a good conversation participant, as Chad would say. “Buh-buh-but,” Blaine shrugs. “Actually w-w-w-working with 5 year olds mmmm-made mmmm-me re-re-think that idea.” He smiles. He can do this. Katinka has a comfortable air, she’s not nervous.

Katinka puts a gentle hand on Blaine’s arm. “You should relax and slow down when you speak,” she tells him knowingly. Blaine glances at Katinka’s hand on his arm and then over at Cooper who just smiles. So Blaine pastes a smile on his face, and Katinka removes her hand.

“Yeah, that’s what you had mentioned, the kindergarten thing. I think you’ll be a great music teacher,” Cooper says. Then he turns to Katinka and tells her “Blaine plays the piano and the guitar. He has a great voice too.”

Katinka looks perplexed, but smiles and nods.

“Thanks, Coop,” Blaine says and Kurt can see him visibly relaxing. Blaine has stopped tapping his foot and his smiles are coming more easily. “I-I-I-I think I’ll be, be, be pretty good at it. I-I-I think it’ll give me a great opportunity to w-w-w-work with a lot of d-d-diff-diff-erent types of kids. All different ages and, and, and levels. Varying abilities and whatnot”

Cooper smiles. Katinka continues looking perplexed.

“When do you student teach?” Cooper asks.

“I have to dah-dah-dah-do some next fall, but the m-m-m-majority of it will be the following… sp-spah-spah...” Blaine isn’t too blocked. He knows he can easily cut it off and start over, but then Katinka interjects.

“Spring?” she asks.

“Um. Yes.” Blaine says. Kurt shoots a look at Blaine, who seems unperturbed by Katinka filling in the word, so Kurt lets it go.

~~~~~

A moment of Katinka

Cooper didn’t tell me his brother has so much trouble talking. I feel bad, why is no one helping him? He obviously needs help. His face gets so red. He looks so nervous.

He’s a nice boy. I like him.

I’ll help him.

~~~~~

A moment of Cooper

Somewhere along the line, I completely forgot about Blaine’s speech. During the past year or so, it stopped seeming like an issue in my mind. I never even considered warning Kat. But now I have no idea how to extract us from this situation.

She seems to be pretty intent on correcting him. She’s not doing it to be rude though, I can tell. This is all really uncomfortable. Should I wait for Blaine to speak up?

I can tell Kurt is starting to get really annoyed, maybe he’s going to say something.

I should have told her. I don’t want to use the word “warn” because I know Blaine hates that, but I didn’t even think to explain that he stutters.

Okay, I need a plan.

~~~~~~

A moment of Kurt

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I AM GOING TO KICK HER.

Oops. I kicked Blaine instead.

~~~~~

A moment of Blaine

Why did Kurt just kick me?

I have no idea what to do. I’ve never actually been in this situation before, where someone really, legitimately nice is being kind of rude. I don’t think she realizes she’s being rude though. How do I tell her she’s being rude?

I’m wracking my brain for anything that I’ve gone over with Chad, but seriously?

This is new to me.

Completely new.

I think I’ll just stop talking for a little while.

~~~~~

Blaine gets quieter and quieter as the meal progresses, moving towards his standard smiles and hand gestures and one word answers. Kurt finds his leg under the table and gives his knee a gentle squeeze. Blaine side eyes him, but doesn’t respond. But it gives him the confidence he needs to open up a new topic.

“Kurt was telling me about a great b-b-b...” And that’s all it takes. The word isn’t coming and Blaine’s face screws up. He knew this was bound to happen because he’s been tense and self-conscious all evening.

Cooper and Kurt both keep their faces neutral and their eyes on Blaine, as they both continue to pick at what’s left of their dinners.

Katinka is a different story.

“Boyfriend?” she asks.

Blaine’s breath hitches, and he shakes his head.

“Bicycle?” she tries again.

Blaine grasps for control of speech and blows out a long breath.

“Bedroom!” she prompts.

“Kat,” Cooper says quietly, putting his hand on her shoulder, and shaking his head.

Simultaneously, Blaine pinches Kurt’s thigh, which then causes Kurt to flinch and drop his fork, which falls and splatters tomato sauce onto the front of his shirt.

“Oh shit,” Kurt exclaims.

Blaine looks at him wide eyed. “I’m s-s-s-s-s-sorry, I’m sorry!”

Cooper and Katinka look over at Kurt’s shirt and then at Blaine, neither of them aware that it was Blaine’s pinch that caused Kurt’s mess.

“It’s okay, not a big deal. I’m gonna go try to clean it up. Excuse me,” he says to Katinka and Cooper. Kurt gets up, and Blaine slumps back in his chair, rubbing his hand over his face.

“I’m going to, to, to go get him sssss-some club soda,” Blaine tells the other couple and makes his way over the bar in the corner. Along with the club soda, he orders himself a Jack and ginger ale.

Blaine knocks on the bathroom door, and he hears Kurt mumble “hold on.”

“It’s just me,” Blaine says.

Kurt unlocks the door, and when Blaine enters, Kurt is blotting wildly at his sweater. Blaine hands him the glass of club soda.

“At least it’s not a white shirt,” Kurt groans with a weak smile.

“I’m s-s-so sorry Kurt. I r-r-really didn’t mean to, to, to pinch you that hard. I-I-I was just getting really frustrated and like, embarrassed.” Blaine hangs his head. He wishes they could go to Kurt’s and curl up on the couch.

“It’s okay,” Kurt murmurs and to show Blaine he means it, he gives him a warm kiss. When they pull away, Blaine inhales deeply through his nose and takes a long gulp of his Jack and Ginger, bypassing the straw entirely.

He offers his drink to Kurt who takes a sip from the straw, and then makes a face.

“Jack?”

“Yeah, s-s-sorry about that. I-I-I needed something … st-stronger than usual.”

Kurt uses a paper towel and dips it into the club soda and begins dabbing with renewed fervor. Blaine leans on the counter. He rolls his neck and shoulders and drinks more. He sighs. He feels shitty.

“You okay, poop?” Kurt asks, working on one of the worst splatters.

Blaine shrugs. “Yeah, whatever.”

“It doesn’t have to be ‘whatever,’” Kurt tells him. “You can tell me how you feel.”

“I-I-I feel like … this is a, a, a r-r-r-really weird situation.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t entirely sure what I should be doing, if anything. Like if something like this happens again, do I jump in? Or bite my tongue?”

Blaine pauses. “What would you ssss-say? I’ve been wracking my bah-bah-bra-brain this whole time, trying to d-d-de-decide what I should say.”

“I don’t exactly,” Kurt replies, honestly, wishing he had some easy answer. “Something polite, but to the point? I would try not to be rude, but I feel like anything I say would be really rude.”

He purses his lips, examining his shirt closely. He thinks he actually got all the spots out pretty well. He sighs and tosses the paper towel in the trash, before leaning next to Blaine on the counter and taking another sip from his straw.

“I-I-I-I guess I need to s-s-stand up for mmmm-myself?” Blaine asks, warily. He hates rocking the boat. “Just say like ‘I have a s-s-stutter, please stop interrupting me.’”

“I mean, frankly,” Kurt starts, trying to think of how to phrase this without it coming out too judgmentally. “Cooper should have said something. When it started.”

Blaine nods.

“But it might fall to you at this point. Because he seems like … he’s just not paying attention to it.”

“Obliviousness mmmm-must be an Anderson trait,” Blaine says, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Although,” he perks up a bit. “This m-m-means Cooper didn’t warn her about my s-s-spah-speech. That means s-s-something.” Blaine bobs his head, a small smile lighting his face.

Kurt’s heart aches at that smile, how Blaine always finds the silver lining, even when someone’s being inconsiderate.

Blaine lays his head on Kurt’s shoulder, and Kurt leans his head on Blaine’s. They stand like that for a minute, before someone knocks on the door.

“One sec,” Kurt calls. “You ready?” he asks turning to Blaine.

Blaine nods as he sucks down the rest of his drink. “Ow, fuck. B-b-b-b-rain freeze.”

Both boys can’t help but smile.

~~~~~

When they return to the table, Cooper tells them he took care of the check if they’re ready to go. The boys agree and the foursome makes their way outside.

“You guys want to go get a drink somewhere?” Cooper asks.

Kurt peaks over at Blaine, who shrugs. Blaine figures no matter how much he’d rather go home and call it a night, Cooper’s still his brother, and he wants to see him. And he’ll work up the nerve to politely ask Katinka to stop interrupting and correcting him.

Kurt hesitates a moment longer, observing Blaine, when Blaine nods.

“Yeah, sure, let’s go,” Kurt says, surprised by Blaine’s assent.

Katinka nods enthusiastically next to Cooper.

Upon arriving at the bar, they nab a table as another group leaves. Cooper offers to go buy drinks for everyone, and as he walks away, Kurt says he’ll go help. He gives Blaine a meaningful glance and nods towards Katinka. Blaine shrugs and almost imperceptibly shakes his head. Kurt gives him a reproachful look, and Blaine takes a deep breath through his nose, but nods.

When Kurt walks away, Blaine focuses on the table, trying to think of something, anything to say. He’s never had the opportunity to really defend himself like this. He’s never had the control over his words that he would need to talk about this situation, but also, it’s usually more of a “hit and run” scenario. It’s not often someone that he’s going to have to be around ever again.

He spins a coaster around, hoping for inspiration, when Katinka leans towards him.

“Cooper tells me I was rude to you earlier,” she says soberly.

Blaine blushes and continues playing with the coaster, his lips tightening involuntarily.

“I thought maybe it was the same as when he corrects my English, but he tells me it’s not. I’m very sorry. I didn’t know.”

Blaine looks up at her then, and her face is full of sincerity, rather than the pity he had been expecting.

“It’s okay. I-I-I-I don’t mmmmmm-mind.”

“I will do better now,” she tells him, squeezing his forearm.

“Thank you.” He smiles, but he can’t quite make eye contact.

“Your Kurt,” Katinka whispers. “He’s nice man, yeah?”

“Yeah, he’s a, a, a good fella.” Blaine glances over his shoulder, where Kurt and Cooper are talking animatedly at the bar while they wait for the drinks.

“Fella?”

“Yeah, like b-b-b-boy-boyfriend.”

“Cooper’s a good fella, too.” She pauses. “A good person.”

Blaine thinks for a moment, about how Cooper said they met. He has a feeling he understands now, that maybe Cooper was defending her the way he never defended Blaine. He and Katinka might have more in common than he would have guessed, they both need a hand sometimes. They both need people in their world that are willing to help them, be kind to them, not make assumptions about them.

Blaine’s trying to think of something else to say when Kurt and Cooper return with the drinks, laughing at something Cooper just said.

Blaine doesn’t have to know what the joke is, he smiles anyway.

Everything is looking up.

~~~~~

Oct 11  
10:43 am  
Cooper: I’m really sorry about last night

10:50 am  
Blaine: You really don’t have to be  
Blaine: Kat and I worked it out

10:55 am  
Cooper: That’s what she said, but I just wanted to make sure

10:57 am  
Blaine: Yeah we’re cool.  
Blaine: I just have a question

11:00 am  
Cooper: Sure, what’s up?

11:02 am  
Blaine: you didn’t tell her?  
Blaine: About my speech?

11:05 am  
Cooper: It never even crossed my mind.

11:06 am  
Blaine: really? Like really, really? or did you just forget because, well. whatever.

11:08 am  
Cooper: It’s because you’ve sounded so good lately. I forgot that it might be an issue around someone new.

11:11 am  
Blaine: Not gonna lie, that makes me really happy.  
Blaine: thanks Coop

11:14 am  
Cooper: Not a problem Blaine  
Cooper: I’ll talk to you soon

11:16 am  
Blaine: yeah, sure.  
Blaine: And thanks for paying for dinner!

11:20 am  
Cooper: I figured it was the least I could do after my girlfriend tortured you for an hour.

~~~~~

Hello?

Blaine.

Dad?

Yeah, hey.

Um, hi.

…

…

…

Is there s-s-s-something I can dah-do for you?

Ah, yeah, well. Your mom wants to talk to you, but I figured I’d say hi first.

Oh, well. Hi. Um. How are you?

I’m good, how bout you Blaine?

Okay. [Blaine tries hard not to be suspicious of his father’s intentions.]

So I hear you met Cooper’s new lady friend.

Um, yes. [Blaine grins at his father’s phrasing.]

What did you think?

I liked her.

Me too. I, um, I heard she gave you … a bit of a hard time with your speech?

Oh. [Blaine’s breath catches.]

I guess. I guess I wanted to make sure you weren’t taking it too much to heart.

[Blaine fights the urge to cry. Tries not to wonder where this man was when he was 7, or 10, or 14, or 18. He clears his throat.] I um, I-I-I-I, well, it’s okay. She apologized. She just d-d-didn’t know. I don’t mmmmm-mind.

Okay. Just checking.

Um. Yeah. It w-w-was okay. Thank you.

We could probably get her sent back to Serbia. If need be. I know a guy who knows a guy.

You do not. [The smile apparent in Blaine’s voice.]

No, I don’t. Sometimes it’s just fun to talk like that.

I’ll keep it, it it, um, in mind though. Thanks, pops.

Here’s your mother.

Alright.

Love you, Blaine.

Oh, um. Love you too, Dad.

…

Hey, Bud.

Hey mom. He’s in a, a, a good m-mood today.

Yeah, he’s been like that a lot lately.

That’s good.

Did he mention Katinka?

Yeah.

He’s stuck on this.

Is he, um, uh, upset about it?

No, I think he’s actually just happy that both you boys seem so happy.

Huh.

How are you bud?

I’m good.

I hear things were a little … strained with Katinka.

I-I-I assume, uh, Cooper told you that?

Well, yes.

It ww-was fine. She ww-was nice, she um, apologized.

Cooper’s worried you’re still upset.

He texted me the next dah-dah-day, though, and I told him everything w-w-w-was fine!

He thinks you were just trying to make him feel better.

Well, I wasn’t. I-I-I actually am fine. Honestly, after Katinka apologized, I w-w-was fine.

Okay. Good. So, what would you think if I invited Kurt’s family here for Thanksgiving?

[He smiles.] Um, rr-rr-really? Like Carole and Buh-burt and Finn?

Are those the important people? Is there anyone else?

Um, they’re like Kurt’s, uh, um, immediate family. So, yeah. They’re, they’re important.

Do you think it’s a good idea? Do you think they’re busy?

I-I-I think it’s a … phenomenal idea. And I-I-I think they usually just dah-dah-do Thanksgiving together, like the four of them. Thanks mom.

Good, I’m going to go give them a call. Tell Kurt. We’ll book flights. I figure you guys can come in Tuesday or Wednesday and stay here and then Kurt can go home with his family after dinner on Thursday. What do you think?

I-I-I-I think you’re an excellent mm-mm-mother.

Thanks, bud.

Wait, are, are, are you going to invite Grandpa?

Not this year. He’s going to be in Florida.

Oh thank god. I-I-I don’t w-w-w-want Kurt’s family to have to to to watch another scene like last Christmas.

I completely understand. Alright, I’ll let you go.

Love you mom.

Love you too, bud. Oh and Blaine?

Yeah?

In case you were wondering, this is the best I’ve ever heard you on the phone.

Thanks mamacita.

Bye!

Bye Mom.


	3. Chapter 3

Blaine drops into the chair across from Chad during a speech therapy session during the last week of October. He’s vibrating with energy. His hands tap out a rhythm on his thighs, and his smile doesn’t fade for a second.

“I take it you ha-ha-have good news?” Chad asks, sitting down across from him.

Blaine’s smile grows.

“Are you going to share?”

Blaine shrugs.

“Well, now I’m ridiculously curious,” Chad says.

Blaine drops his gaze for a second. “I-I-I might have played this up too much. I’m just in a r-r-r-really good mood. Like everything is, is, is really good lately. Unimaginably good.”

“That’s good. That’s really good, Blaine.”

“It is,” Blaine agrees, as he leans his elbows on his knees and taps his feet.

“Seems like this is a good time to start talking a-a-a-about wrapping up therapy again, maybe.” Chad says this tentatively, not wanting to send Blaine into a spiral of worry. Chad’s concern is that Blaine’s reaction to finishing speech is always so negative that maybe it isn’t a good idea. But Blaine’s done. There’s really not much else Chad can do with him. It would be almost ridiculous to continue sessions with a patient who has made the kind of progress Blaine has.

Blaine’s smile falls, and he leans back in the chair. He huffs out a breath but nods. “Um. Okay.” He blinks a few times and his mouth becomes a tight line. “So talk.”

This is why Chad has been so hesitant to bring up the topic. Any time Chad broaches the topic of Blaine not needing therapy anymore, Blaine instantly regresses. He pulls back, pulls away. Chad can see in his eyes that he’s not doing it on purpose, he’s legitimately scared.

Chad continues. “Well, I was thinking we could cut back to every other week for the rest of the sem-mes-mes-ster. And if that works out, you won’t come back in January.”

Blaine swallows. He hates this idea. Hates it. He’s not entirely sure why he can’t just go to speech therapy for the rest of his life. He rolls these thoughts over in his mind and Chad can see his face darken momentarily, before Blaine clears his throat and shakes his head.

“What?” Chad prompts. “What are you thinking?”

“Um. Well,” Blaine takes a deep breath. “Is there anything wrong with going to s-spah-spah-eech for like the r-r-rest of my life, maybe? Like what’s wrong w-w-w-with that?” Blaine is on the verge of petulance, which isn’t something Chad has seen in a long time.

Chad laughs a little, which he knows isn’t going to help Blaine’s mood. “There wouldn’t be anything wrong with that. If you needed it. You really don’t need it, Blaine. And the oh-oh-only way you’re going to fully gain control of your speech is by basically becoming your own speech therapist. You need to be able to self analyze and stabilize. You’ve already started the self analyze part, you do it all the time. But to really succeed in this, in, in, in the long term, you need to not need me anymore.”

Blaine ducks his head. “Okay, okay,” Blaine says mostly to himself. He hugs his chest and rocks a little in the chair. Chad can tell he’s really close to panicking.

“Blaine, come on. What’s up? You know you c-c-can do this. You’ve done everything.”

Blaine shrugs and rolls his eyes.

“You have done everything,” Chad repeats.

Tears spring to Blaine’s eyes and he breathes a ragged breath. “I haven’t dah-done this though,” he mumbles.

“What?” Chad knows what he’s getting at. He hasn’t succeeded on his own. He hasn’t worked without a net. But he doesn’t need a net anymore. He needs a support system of course, but from here on out, with any luck, he won’t fall so far, so fast that he won’t be able to save himself.

Blaine’s biting the inside of his lip, trying really hard not to cry. It’s so stupid to cry. He has no idea why he feels like this. This is good news. This should make him happy.

“Like …” He swallows again. He can’t believe that Chad doesn’t understand, that Chad can’t just fill in the gap. And then it dawns on him. Of course Chad can fill in the gap, the point is for Blaine to fill in his own gaps from now on. He finally looks at Chad, who’s wearing the world’s best poker face, but Blaine can tell now, Blaine knows. Chad needed to push Blaine to the brink, well, maybe not the brink. But the point is to push him. He squints his eyes at Chad, suspiciously.

“Every other week?” Blaine asks, finally.

Chad breathes a sigh of relief. He’s not sure what changed in Blaine’s mind, but it’s like a light switch came on and Blaine’s whole demeanor changed.

“Yeah, think of it like a trial. And the weeks that you don’t come, you have to set aside time to do certain activities. I’ll give you a list to start out with, but then you have to work on your own lists. And you have to keep a log. You need to keep track before and after you do an activity. What you do, how you do it, how you f-f-feel, everything. Whether you think you succeeded or failed. You have to be brutally honest with yourself, negatively, but also positively. If you do well Blaine, give yourself a pat on the back. Don’t deny yourself praise.”

Blaine blushes, but nods. He knows that’s often the hardest thing for him to do, to acknowledge his own success.

“Then the next session, you share that with me, and we’ll talk it over,” Chad finishes. “Do you have any questions?”

Blaine shakes his head. He does assignments and activities for Chad all the time. He knows where he needs to challenge himself and where it’s less of a big deal.

“And you’ll need to keep track of the variables, too. Time of day, who you’re with. At the end of each day, I want you to grade your speech on a scale of 1 to 10. 1 being the worst speech day you’ve ever had and 10 being the best.” Blaine sees a lot of 5’s in his future.

“And you can’t just give yourself a 5 everyday,” Chad says, reading his thoughts.

Blaine decides not to fight it and lets out a chuckle at that. “You really think I’m ready for this?”

“Blaine. You’ve been ready for this for months.”

Blaine makes a face. “Impossible because I’m not ready for it now.”

It’s Chad’s turn to roll his eyes. “Go jump in a lake.”

“Nah, too cold,” Blaine tells him.

“Really Blaine. You’re ready for this. I’ll give you some articles to read a-a-about winding up therapy and stabilization, and I think you’ll get it. I think you’ll see just how ready you are.”

“I’m s-s-s-still not sure why I-I-I can’t come hang out with you forever.”

Chad shrugs. “We’ll hang out elsewhere. I solemnly pr-pr-promise. The first week that you’re officially done we’ll go get a beer, okay?”

Blaine nods. He almost feels okay. He does have one more worry.

“What if I relapse?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah. That happens. Um. That’s part of what we’ll work on the next couple of weeks. We’ll have you fake a relapse before we f-f-f-finish and you’ll learn strategies to deal with it. And if you should relapse big time in the future, you come back to therapy. Or you go to another intensive course. But with any luck, you’ll have the tools to keep yourself from relapsing.”

“I-I-I have a, a, a personal question,” Blaine says. “If you dah-don’t mind.”

Chad smiles, knowingly. Blaine doesn’t even have to ask. “Three times. Right after I finished college, then when my dad died, and then once last year, a month or two before you started coming, because of, well, we’ll call it e-e-emotional turmoil.”

“Sorry, about all of that. I-I-I don’t want to br-bring up all the bah-bad shit.”

“No, no it’s okay. I’ll tell you about the emotional turmoil someday over a beer. It’s more f-f-friend stuff than therapist stuff.”

Blaine grins. “So did you ever have to, to, to go back to therapy for any of them?”

Chad nods. “Yeah, after my dad died. That’s when I went to the intensive course for the second time. It was basically the perfect remedy.”

Blaine exhales. “There’s no shame in asking for help.”

“Never.”

“And we can s-s-s-still be friends.”

“You’ll probably never get rid of me.”

“So, I-I-I just won’t come next week?”

“Yeah. We’ll plan it all out. You really are going to be ff-fine. And if you’re not, you’ll call me.”

Blaine sits up straight and squares his shoulders. “Alright.”

“Still in a good mood?” Chad inquires.

“It’s dampened s-s-slightly.”

“Take a second and think about last year at this time. How hard you were working, how some days it was like you ha-ha-had to fight for every word. You’re a totally different person now. You should be in a great mood all, all, all the time.”

“I suppose. Even if your s-s-s-sentiment is cliche, I-I-I-I suppose you’re r-r-right,” Blaine concedes.

“Of course I’m right.”

They finish up the session after working on a schedule, and Blaine leaves with a list of activities to work on.

Chad feels like he’s pushing a baby bird out of the nest.

He wonders if bird mothers feel this worried and proud.

~~~~~

October 30  
2:01 pm  
Blaine: I have good news.  
Blaine: Scary news, but good news.  
Blaine: Really good news.

2:03 pm  
Kurt: oh yeah? In person news?

2:04 pm  
Blaine: Definitely in person news.  
Blaine: I deserve hugs and kisses for this news.  
Blaine: Maybe even other stuff. :D

2:06 pm  
Kurt: Whoa, whoa, whoa  
Kurt: Hugs and kisses *and* other stuff?  
Kurt: This must be really good news.

2:10 pm  
Blaine: It is. It really is.

2:12 pm  
Kurt: We should celebrate this weekend, it’s our sortaversary too.

2:14 pm  
Blaine: YES. But this news, I don’t want to save it.

2:16 pm  
Kurt: So we’ll celebrate twice.

2:18 pm  
Blaine: are you busy later?

2:21 pm  
Kurt: Nope :)  
Kurt: I’ll tell Rachel to find some other way to occupy herself tonight. Why don’t you come over after work? I’ll make dinner.

2:24 pm  
Blaine: Sounds perfect.  
Blaine: I’ll see you around 7.  
Blaine: love you.

2:27 pm  
Kurt: Love you tooooooooooooo.

~~~~~

“So, how’d you get r-r-r-rid of Rachel tonight?” Blaine asks, by way of greeting when Kurt lets him into the apartment that evening.

“I told her you deserved hugs and kisses and more,” Kurt tells him. “And that you refuse to allow her to watch. She was disappointed, to say the least.”

Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss. Blaine’s hands drift to Kurt’s waist and he lets Kurt envelop him. There lips touch and their tongues tease at each other. Blaine smiles against Kurt’s mouth.

“You don’t even know the, the, the news yet,” Blaine mumbles.

“You always deserve hugs and kisses.”

They stand there, kissing, over and over, until the kitchen timer signals dinner is ready.

Kurt made chicken cutlets and baked potatoes and a salad. Blaine is thrilled. They sit on either side of the island and chat idly about their day. As they finish, Kurt looks at Blaine expectantly, before standing up and coming over to the other side.

Blaine looks at him curiously.

“I figured I needed to be closer if this news deserves hugs and kisses.”

Blaine glows and looks at his plate. “Um. Chad said, um, that,” Blaine looks up and his cheek twitches as his face breaks into a grin. “That I’ll be d-d-d-done with therapy at the end of, of, of the s-s-s-semester.”

From the way Blaine’s foot is tapping against the rung of his bar stool, Kurt can tell he has a lot of pent up excitement about this news and probably a lot of nerves at the prospect. They’ve talked about it here and there, the fact that eventually Blaine would be done with speech, but Kurt’s a little surprised that it’s happening already. Not that Blaine doesn’t sound great, but Kurt sees his confidence dissolve so quickly sometimes. Though he supposes that will get better with time.

Kurt’s sure that Chad knows what he’s doing, and he’s certainly not going to voice any of his concerns to Blaine, not when he’s looking at him so shyly, so expectantly.

“Oh poop! That’s amazing news,” Kurt says, putting his hands on Blaine’s shoulders and leaning in to kiss him. “You are a speech therapy superstar.” He kisses Blaine’s flushed cheeks and smiles.

Blaine’s eyes unfocus a little, and Kurt can see how nervous he is underneath the excitement. Blaine turns his head and squeezes his eyes shut. Kurt wants to drag him out of his state of worry and into a more celebratory mood.

Kurt lifts Blaine’s chin with his finger. “Hey.”

Blaine focuses on Kurt and holds his gaze. “Hey,” he says a little uncomfortably.

“This is good, right? This is fantastic. You are … “ Kurt really looks at Blaine, and squeezes his shoulder. “You’re upset. Don’t be upset. We’re celebrating.”

Blaine nods his head and sucks in a ragged breath. “I-I-I know.” He grimaces. “I know,” he repeats, his voice barely a whisper.

Kurt slides in between Blaine’s knees and curls his arms around his neck. Blaine lowers his head on Kurt’s chest and closes his eyes, while Kurt plays with Blaine’s hair.

Blaine sighs, a bit more content, and pulls back, looking into Kurt’s eyes.

“I-I-I really do know. It’s just that I feel like, like, like I’ve climbed Everest and it’s awesome and I’m so happy, but now I’ve b-b-b-b-been told that I’m not allowed to walk b-b-b-back down. Like I have to make up some other way to, to, to transport myself bah-bah-back to sea level.”

“That’s … interesting. And frustrating? I’d imagine.”

“Yeah. Sort of.”

“You should want to stay on top of Everest.”

“I know.”

Kurt searches Blaine’s eyes again. “You’re perfect, you know?”

Blaine laughs mirthlessly.

“I think you’re perfect.”

“Okay.” Blaine’s getting uncomfortable. He’s shrinking away from Kurt, with every word Kurt says. He’s blinking rapidly, and his eyes are trained somewhere on Kurt’s left shoulder.

“The fact that I think you’re perfect shouldn’t make you so upset.”

Blaine nods his head, not looking at Kurt and then brings his mouth to Kurt’s ear. “I could, I could fail. And then I’d just... be Blah again,” he whispers.

Kurt pulls back slightly, needing to see Blaine’s face. He’s astonished by how sad Blaine is. And saddened that he feels like he could revert that far. Over the summer, Blaine had told Kurt about how the other kids used to call him Blah. He said it with a nonchalance that Kurt knew was a facade, so Kurt had hugged him, and he told him he loved him and filed the information away.

Kurt places his hands on Blaine’s face, wanting his full attention. He smiles when he feels Blaine’s hands move around his back. When Blaine’s touching him, Kurt knows he’s listening.

“Don’t talk like that. Please don’t talk like that. I want you to think happy things and dream big things and love me and love yourself because I love you. And I would tell you to shut up, but I never want you to feel like you can’t talk. I want you to think good things and be good to you. So I’m going to tell you I love you and …”

Kurt’s stopped dead in his monologue when Blaine’s mouth covers his. Kurt’s arms wrap back around Blaine and they kiss for one minute, two minutes.

Blaine pulls away to speak.

“You’re right. I-I-I know you’re right. I just can’t shake the feeling that everything is going to fall to, to, to shit.” He looks at Kurt sadly. “I don’t w-w-want things to fall to shit.”

“Like what could fall to shit?”

Blaine shrugs.

“Are you worried about losing me?”

Blaine shakes his head.

“Or our friends? Or your job? Or failing out school?”

No, no and no.

“I-I-I-I could fall to shit,” Blaine says in tiny voice.

Oh.

Okay. This isn’t about outside influences, this is about how Blaine feels.

“Well, if you fall to shit, I don’t know. How does one save someone after they fall to shit?”

That gets a chuckle out of Blaine.

“I’ll prop you up and turn you back into a person? Or something? Fall to shit is such an imprecise phrase.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. So, so much. I would love you if you’re shit. I mean, I love you now and you’re a poophead.”

Blaine sits up straighter on his stool, and he pulls Kurt closer and trails kisses down his neck.

“Thank you, Kurt,” he says sincerely.

“You’re very, very welcome, Blaine. Always.” Kurt presses one more kiss to Blaine’s temple and then pulls away. He picks up the dishes to put them in the sink.

“No, no. Let m-m-m-me do the d-dishes,” Blaine says.

“No way, we’re still celebrating you! You don’t have to do a thing. Although you could go in the refrigerator and get out the bottle of champagne I bought.”

“You b-b-bought champagne?” Blaine asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Just a little bottle.”

“What if mmmm-my good news was something completely lame and, and, and not champagne w-w-w-worthy?”

Kurt shrugs as he starts running water in the sink. “Almost everything is champagne worthy.”

“Are these s-s-strawberries for us too?”

“Yes!”

Kurt does the dishes, and Blaine pours champagne. He sits up on the counter and pops strawberries into Kurt’s mouth so he doesn’t have touch them with soapy hands.

When Kurt’s phone rings, Blaine answers for him when he sees that the screen says “Home.”

“Kurt’s phone,” he says cheerfully.

“Blaine?”

“Oh, hey, Buh-burt.”

“Hey. How’s it going?”

“Really, r-r-really good, actually,” Blaine confesses.

“Oh yeah? Anything particular?”

“Um yeah. I, um.” He pauses and smiles at Kurt. “My ss-spah-spah-speech therapist told me I’m almost d-d-d-done with therapy. That I won’t have to, have to go b-b-b-back next semester.”

“That’s great news, kid. I’m not surprised. You’re a totally different guy than when I met you.”

“Thanks Buh-buh-urt.”

“I talked to your mom today.”

“Oh yeah? She call, um, uh, about Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah. We’re happy for the invite.”

“Are you guys gonna come?”

“Yeah, I was calling Kurt to make sure he liked the idea. Didn’t want to step on toes.”

“Ha! Yeah, he has a, a, a, a lot of opinions.”

“What’s he up to?”

“He’s finishing d-d-d-dinner di-dishes. Here he is r-r-r-right now.”

Blaine hands the phone off to Kurt and hops off the counter. He gestures that he’s going to go hang out in the living room, as Kurt starts to talk to his dad.

Blaine kicks his shoes off and puts his feet on the coffee table, flipping the tv on, in search of something to watch while Kurt chats on the phone.

Kurt wanders his apartment chatting with his dad, assuring him that he thinks going to Blaine’s for Thanksgiving is a great idea. That he and Blaine think it’s awesome that Blaine’s mom invited them. Kurt tells him that he and Blaine are going to take a flight on Wednesday morning and then he’ll go home with his dad and Carole on Thursday for the weekend.

Kurt can hear the relief and smile in his dad’s voice that Kurt’s going to stay with them.

“I thought maybe you’d just want to stay at the Anderson’s or something.”

“No, no. Like it or not, we both should hang out with our families for a little bit. And I see his dumb face all the time,” Kurt knows Blaine is listening when he hears a put out “hey!” come from the living room.

Burt tells him to go hang out with that dumb face, and they’ll talk again soon. He offers money for the plane ticket, and Kurt says he’ll put it on his credit card. They hang up after that, and Kurt walks over the couch.

“So it looks like the Hudson-Hummel’s are in for Thanksgiving with the Andersons.”

“Excellent,” Blaine says.

Kurt straddles Blaine’s lap, kneeling on the couch and then lowering himself. Blaine makes a put upon look before leaning around Kurt to see the tv.

“Oh, really? You think,” Kurt pauses and looks behind him. “A rerun of Friends is better than what I’m offering right here?”

“Well, I mmmm-mean this is The One in Vegas. Which combines two of mmm-mmm-my favorites things. Friends and, and, and gambling.”

“What about me? Aren’t I one of your favorite things?” Kurt pouts.

“You are m-m-my absolutely number one favorite thing on the, the, the face,” Blaine pecks a kiss on Kurt’s pouting bottom lip, “of,” another kiss, “the,” another kiss, “earth.”

“That’s what I thought,” Kurt says, absently playing with the curls at the back of Blaine’s neck. “So, earlier today, there was some discussion of ‘other stuff,’” Kurt finger quotes. “Maybe we should look into that. What kind of ‘other stuff’ did you have in mind?”

Blaine laces his fingers behind his head and hums in mock contemplation. “Maybe a … b-b-b-blow job? Just putting it um, it out there. This all seems bl-bl-blow job worthy to mm-me.”

“You think everything is blow job worthy,” Kurt rolls his eyes.

“See, I feel about b-b-b-blow jobs the way you feel about champagne.”

While this conversation has been going on, Kurt had been unbuttoning Blaine’s shirt, sad to find a white undershirt underneath.

“Layers!” Kurt exclaims, frustrated.

Blaine shrugs off his shirt and runs his thumbs underneath Kurt’s shirt.

“I-I-I-I love how this distresses you, considering you’re w-w-w-wearing,” Blaine stops to count Kurt’s layers, “four yourself.”

“We’re going to have to remedy this situation,” Kurt’s voice is muffled as he pulls off layer after layer, finally and fully revealing his taught, freckled skin.

Blaine’s voice is low and confident when he says, “Perhaps we need to adjourn to the b-bed-bedroom.”

So they do.


	4. Chapter 4

A conversation between Blaine and Kurt:

“I’m a little b-b-b-bit nervous about this,” Blaine confesses to Kurt on their flight to Ohio on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.

“I’m a little bit nervous about this, too.”

“I’m worried about your dah-dad and mmm-my dah-dad.” They’re such very different men that Blaine is legitimately worried about the way their personalities are going to clash. He keeps thinking of ways to run interference. He’s definitely not going to leave them in a room alone together if he can help it.

“Me, too,” Kurt agrees. “I mean, Carole will be fine, and your mom is wonderful.” He trails off. He doesn’t want to offend Blaine, even though Blaine isn’t the biggest fan of his own father, it’s still kind of shitty to say something too negative, Kurt thinks.

“I-I-I just hope m-m-my dad be-be-behaves himself. I don’t want your dad to hate him.” Blaine lets out a long breath. “I know they’re not going to be b-b-best friends or anything, but I really w-w-want them to at least kind of get along. But. My dad might be a complete dick. And then your dad will be all Buh-buh-urt-like. Like when he r-r-rapid fired questions at mmm-me last Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah, papa bear Burt has a tendency to come out at inconvenient times.” Both chuckle, and then Kurt continues, realizing something. “Even if my dad did hate him, it wouldn’t change how he felt about you, you know? Like he would probably like you more because you’re a nice guy even though your dad isn’t.”

“I know. Well, I-I-I mean. I think, I kind of get what you’re s-s-saying. I-I-I-I just, I …” Blaine can’t quite get these words to come out properly. Kurt’s dad already means more to Blaine than he should. He can’t help it though, there’s something undeniably warm about Burt Hummel. Something that Blaine respects and reveres. (And loves.) Blaine shrugs and shakes his head. “I dunno, whatever.”

Kurt nods and stays quiet for a moment, making sure Blaine isn’t going to continue, before saying,”I really want our families to get along.”

“Yeah, me too,” Blaine says, softly.

They spend the rest of the flight each lost in thought, while gripping each other’s hands nervously.

~~~~~

A conversation between Michelle and Greg Anderson:

“Do you need me to do anything?” Greg asks, coming into the kitchen.

Michelle actually can’t remember the last time he ever offered any type of help in the kitchen. But she doesn’t want to mention it and send him scurrying away. He’s been so different lately. So much more like he was when they were young, just married. Michelle had resigned herself to marriage with this man a long time ago. For years she stayed with him for the sake of the kids. And then after Blaine left for college she stayed almost out of laziness. She has places she could go, but this is her house too. Sometimes it felt like they were in a stand off.

Until last year, when Greg took a look at his life and found it lacking. Fundamentally lacking. He started going to therapy, he joined a gym, he kisses her everyday now.

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Michelle starts ticking things off. “The turkey’s almost done, Blaine and Kurt are out picking up the bread at the bakery, Katinka and Carole are bringing dessert, the potatoes are boiling...”

“I could mash them?” he offers.

“That would be great. Then I could set the table.”

It’s simple, it’s new but somehow familiar. Michelle no longer feels like she’s settling.

~~~~~

A conversation between Carole and Burt (and Finn):

“I’m still not entirely sure why I couldn’t wear my hat,” Burt whines for the tenth time.

Carole closes her eyes and shakes her head, willing herself to be calm. This is when she misses Kurt the most. He’s always on her side in this type of argument. Not to mention that he can usually talk his father into wearing nicer clothes than she ever can.

“For the record, I like the hat, Burt,” Finn calls from the back seat. “It suits you, it’s Burt-like.”

Carole momentarily loses her cool.

“No one asked you Finn,” she says sweetly and then turns around to give him a look that clearly says “I brought you into this world and I could take you out.”

~~~~~

A conversation between Cooper and Katinka:

November 26  
@ 1:27 pm  
Cooper: I’m here!  
Cooper: Do you need me to come up and help?

1:29 pm  
Katinka: No, no! I’m fine. Be out in a minute!

~~~~~

Cooper waits in the car for a minute, figuring Katinka will be down from her apartment in no time. When she appears around the corner of her building she’s laden with a cake saver, a pastry box, several bags, and her usual gargantuan purse.

“Kat, I could have helped you bring all of that to the car if you had asked,” Cooper says as he comes around the car to open the passenger door for her and unburden her of some packages.

“No, no. I was fine,” she says with a smile and signature Katinka charm. “But thank you for offering.”

“What is all this stuff?” he asks getting back in the car.

“Well, the box has knedles in it and the cake is Vasa’s torte and in the bags there is finishing touches for the knedles, and I didn’t want to come empty handed so I brought a homemade candle for your mother...”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Good or bad unbelievable?” she asks honestly.

“The best kind,” he says as he kisses her.

~~~~~

A conversation between Blaine and Kurt:

“How much would your mom kill us if we came home with McDonalds right now?” Kurt asks as they pass the yellow arches.

“So mm-much,” Blaine replies seriously.

“I want to see your mom completely lose her shit over chicken mcnuggets.”

“No you dah-don’t.”

“Large fries, multiple Big Macs,” Kurt continues.

“Why dah-do you insist on antagonizing mmm-my mmm-mother?”

“I’m actually trying to get you to stop being so nervous, but it’s apparently not working.”

Blaine glances over at him at a red light. “Actually it is sort of helping.”

Kurt smiles and squeezes Blaine’s hand for the hundredth time that day.

~~~~~

A conversation between Carole and Michelle:

Michelle leads Carole into the kitchen, in search of a vase for the gorgeous bouquet she brought.

She fixes the flowers in a nice array and then turns to Carole.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” Michelle asks, gesturing to the bottle that Cooper just opened.

“Sure,” Carole says. She’s game and could quite frankly use a drink after the drive here with Burt and Finn.

“I’m so happy you all could make it today.”

“Oh, me too. Thank you so much for inviting us. Your home is really lovely.”

“Thank you. It really seemed like it was about time. I kept meaning to have you over this summer for a barbecue, but the boys were hardly around.”

“I know. There were times I thought Burt was this close to bribing Kurt to come home.”

Michelle chuckles. “I actually did try to bribe Blaine. With rice pudding.”

Carole raises her eyebrows.

“It was when he was getting his wisdom teeth out.”

They laugh together for a second.

“Blaine is a really wonderful kid,” Carole says, sincerely. “I can’t believe how different he is from last year at this time.”

“Thank you. Although I have had absolutely nothing to do with this change in him. And I really don’t know where he would be without Kurt. He didn’t have the … drive to change himself. But Kurt... Kurt is so patient with him, and he made Blaine want things.” Michelle shakes her head, tears springing to her eyes. She’s not quite sure why she’s sharing this with a relative stranger. She giggles self-consciously.

“Sorry, I have no idea where that came from.”

Carole rubs a warm hand on her arm. “Mom to mom, I’m pretty sure it came from the fact that your son is happy.”

“I think I had given up hope that he would be this happy. He spent so long being a ghost in his own life. So many years just pretending to be invisible, even here at home. Like there was nowhere that he ever seemed comfortable in his own skin. He wasn’t even unself-conscious as a child. He was never carefree. And then all of a sudden Kurt comes into his life, and it was like his shell started peeling away. Before I knew there was a ‘Kurt’ I knew something was changing. I,” she pauses. “I’m rambling again.”

“No, feel free. I’m actually really interested to hear your side of things. We had no idea there was a Blaine until last September sometime.”

“I know his roommate had a lot to do with it too,” Michelle starts.

“Matt,” Carole says with a smile. “Talk about a nice kid. I met him last year when they passed through Lima on the way to Canada.”

“Oh, good. He’s such a good kid. You should meet his mom. I have no idea how she does it. He’s one of seven kids.”

“Seven?!”

Michelle nods. “Anyway, I know Matt started this, started Blaine feeling better about himself, gave him something we just couldn’t. Something that he wasn’t finding here, or with the kids at school, or anywhere. We sent him to therapy for years which I assume helped, because he seemed to at least come out of most sessions with a smile. But he never seemed to grow into himself. And then last summer, when he came home, there were these subtle changes. He would speak up, he held himself differently. That was all Matt.”

Carole’s nodding along. She’s enjoying getting this perspective on Blaine.

“Anyway. There were so many more changes in him last summer. They were a lot more noticeable. And that all had to be from Kurt. His confidence really started to grow, and when he came out to us, I actually don’t think I ever loved him more. Because he was finally being honest with himself and with us.”

“Well, I wish I could take any credit for Kurt, but that’s all Burt who raised that boy. And if you ask Burt he’ll tell you it was Kurt’s mom’s influence that made him who is today.”

“It’s like nobody wants to take credit for the adults their kids become. Even when they’ve really succeeded.”

“I suppose we want to think they did it all themselves.”

“Well, they did.”

“But we must have had something to do with it,” Carole muses.

A Conversation between Katinka and Finn:

“You have a really cool accent,” Finn says, out of nowhere. He somehow ended up on the loveseat next to Katinka while everyone was eating appetizers and drinking cocktails. “Is it southern?”

Katinka looks at him, momentarily confused. “It’s Serbian.”

“Cool. Where’s that?”

“In Europe, near Hungary.”

“Huh. Who knew? I’m really hungry right now. My mom made yams with like little marshmallows on them.”

Katinka claps her hands in delight. “I love marshmallows!”

A conversation between Burt and Gregory:

“We could go play pool with the kids,” Greg suggests to Burt, feeling like he needs to entertain him while Carole and Michelle clean up in the kitchen.

“We could also help do dishes,” Burt says.

“Don’t you dare!” Michelle calls from the kitchen. “We have this under control. The dishwasher is going to do most of the work anyway!”

“Well, if that’s the case, maybe we could check the score?” Burt prompts.

Greg nods, and they settle into the family room. They watch the game in relative silence for a while, brief comments, offers of more beer.

Blaine wanders out of the basement at one point, to get a drink, and his dad calls him into the living room.

“I meant to ask yesterday, if you had to skip speech this week or if you rescheduled.”

Blaine looks confused and then a bit guilty as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Or was this an off week already?” Burt asks. He’s not sure exactly why he’s getting involved, it’s none of his business, but something about the look on Blaine’s face made him feel like he needed help.

“Yeah, this w-w-was the off www-week.”

“The off week?” his dad asks.

“Yeah, I-I-I only go every um, every other week now,” Blaine states, raising his chin, feeling defiant.

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“I … um. I told mom, I-I-I guess I thought she told you?”

“Why are you only going every other week? Is it a scheduling conflict? Is it money? I know there was an issue with the insurance. Therapy is too important Blaine, don’t toss it to the side. Not when it’s really helping you.”

“No. Chad s-s-s-said,” Blaine looks over at Burt, who seems to be pretending not to be there. He’s not sure why he feels so attacked, when this is actually pretty nice for his dad. He just doesn’t want Burt to notice. Blaine doesn’t want Burt to notice the effect his father has him. He doesn’t want Burt to notice how weak Blaine is. “Um. Chad said it it it was time to wrap it up. That I don’t have to come b-b-b-back in January.”

“You’re done with therapy? Out of nowhere?”

“It’s not rr-rr-really out of nowhere. I’ve b-b-been going for over a year. And I-I-I feel like I’m done too. I think … I um. I think that.” Now he’s reverting to old Blaine. His father’s eyes pierce him, make him feel small and stupid. He can’t hold his gaze. It’s not fair. It’s not fair of him to take this away from him. And then he chances a look at Burt, who gives him a smile and a wink. Blaine smiles back.

Blaine turns back to his father. “Maybe this is why I-I-I didn’t mm-mm-mention it to you.”

His father bites his lip. “But you told Burt.”

Blaine shrugs. It was his news to tell. “I didn’t, like, mean to, to, to keep it from you. It was … I-I-I-I guess,” Blaine is fighting hard for control right now. Willing himself not to stutter, willing himself not to blink too much, he rolls his neck to keep it from jerking. He exhales through his nose. “I-I-I didn’t think to tell you. We dah-dah-don’t really talk about this st-st-st-stuff.”

Burt slips out of the room.

A conversation between Blaine and his dad:

“No, you’re right. We don’t,” his dad concedes.

“You m-m-m-make me feel stupid. You m-m-make me feel stupid and s-s-small,” Blaine says biting the inside of his cheek, willing himself not to cry.

“I’m sorry. I just worry about you.”

“I’m an adult, dad.” His father’s apology has brought him back to himself. In that moment, Blaine remembers who he’s become, rather than who he used to be. “I mm-mean, I’m glad you’re concerned, that you, you, you um, that you care, buh-bu-but sometimes, it feels a little late.”

“It is late. I’ve been remiss. But I guess I had hoped that we were … on the mend. After going to therapy together, and it seems like we talk more. That you talk to me more.” Now his dad is getting emotional too. “I didn’t mean to undermine you. I certainly didn’t mean to make you feel stupid.”

Blaine nods. Not trusting his voice.

“I apologize,” his father says again.

Blaine clears his throat. “Thank you,” he starts to walk out of the room, but then he turns around. “And I-I-I apologize for not telling you mm-my good news.”

His dad turns around and stands up. “It’s good news? I mean, you feel like it’s good news?”

Blaine steps forward, aware again that aside from Chad, his father might be one of the few people in his life that really understands what he’s going through. He might understand how much Blaine had come to rely on speech therapy, how he feels like he needs it to make it through the week.

Blaine opens his mouth, to give a generic answer and then decides to tell him the truth. “It took mm-me a little while to … come to terms w-w-with it. It’s harder than I thought it would be, feeling like I’m done. Trying to re-re-remember that, that, that I’m not quitting. That I-I-I apparently s-s-s-succeeded this time? I-I-I don’t know. I can’t r-r-really explain it. You probably w-w-won’t r-r-r-really understand.”

“Try me.”

Blaine sighs. “Like even though I’m finishing and, and, and I-I-I feel like I sound pretty good mm-most of the time, I feel like uh, like um, like I’m going to ss-ss-spend the rest of my life worrying about my s-s-spah-spah-speech. Like I’m never going to shake the, the, the feeling that any minute I’ll talk and my voice w-w-won’t be there.” He gestures to his mouth, in a little “puff” motion.

His dad is nodding. He’s moved closer to Blaine and gives Blaine’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Do you, do you ever s-s-still worry about your s-s-sp-speech?” Blaine asks, voice somehow both hesitant and rushed. He looks at his dad, side eyes him really, can’t quite bring himself to face him.

“Everyday,” his dad admits.

“That’s what I’m w-w-worried about,” Blaine says.

His dad does the only thing he can think to do and pulls Blaine in for a hug.

A conversation between Burt, Carole, Kurt, and Finn:

“Well, that was a very nice way to spend the holiday,” Carole says as they pull out of the Anderson’s driveway.

“Yeah, not bad at all,” Burt agrees.

“I’m just glad everybody got along,” Kurt says.

“Katinka is awesome,” Finn adds. “She has the best accent and I think I finally understand how to play pool.”

“You play pool all the time,” Kurt says.

“Yeah, but I would usually kinda hit the balls around, I didn’t know there was like strategy.”

“You’ve beat me at pool,” Kurt says.

“You suck at it, that’s all,” Finn tells him honestly.

Kurt shakes his head.

~~~~~

A conversation between Michelle and Greg:

Later that evening, Blaine has fallen asleep on the floor curled around a throw pillow while watching tv in the family room.

Greg sits on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, watching his son sleep for the first time in years. He’s not sure when he last watched Blaine sleep, probably not since he was a very little boy.

Michelle comes in the room, taking a seat next to him on the couch, grabbing his beer from him, and taking a sip.

“Oh, really?” he says quietly, not wanting to disturb Blaine, a smile brightening his features. He hasn’t felt this young in a long time. He puts a hand on her knee and squeezes.

“It seemed like a good idea,” she grins, handing the half empty bottle back to him. “How long has he been like that?” she asks, gesturing towards Blaine.

“Since about,” he cranes his neck to see the clock on the cable box, “9 o’clock, give or take.”

She nods. “Why the floor?”

“Well, he laid down on the other couch, and claimed he ate too much food to lay on such a soft surface, so then he rolled off, and rolled around on the floor groaning for a little while. And then the next thing I knew he was asleep.”

“He’s become a very silly kid in his old age,” she says fondly.

“He has,” Greg agrees. “Was he always so silly? I don’t ever remember him being silly.”

“When he was a very little boy. Little bits of it would peek through. He’s always had a wild imagination.”

“Dinner was wonderful. You did a wonderful job,” Greg says, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Thank you.” Michelle suddenly feels young herself. “Thank you for your help today.”

“Not a problem,” he says, scratching lightly at the back of her neck, in a gesture familiar from early in their relationship. “I … I don’t want you to think I’m accusing you of something...”

“But?” Michelle prompted.

“But why … why didn’t you tell me about Blaine finishing speech therapy?”

She looks over at him, and shakes her head. “I didn’t tell you?”

“No,” he looks away from her. “And it came up today, and I felt … hurt. Because he had obviously talked to Burt about it, but not to me. And he said he’d told you, but …” His voice trails off.

Michelle nods, encouragingly, a gesture she uses most often with Blaine, but is starting to find even more useful around her husband recently.

Greg sighs. “I don’t know. What should I expect? I, I know I did this to myself.” His voice is rueful, but not self-pitying.

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. And I’m sorry he didn’t tell you,” she pauses. “I think I’ve been trying so hard to win Blaine’s trust for so many years, that sometimes I forget to share things with you. Or I forget that he might want me to share things with you.”

Greg nods, knowing that’s honest.

“He’s an unbelievably good boy,” Michelle says.

“Man,” Greg amends. “He’s a good man.”

“Yes,” Michelle sighs, and rolls her eyes, too. “I just hate thinking that my baby is a man.”

Greg chuckles briefly and then takes a deep breath. “You think,” he sighs. “Do you think …” he’s not quite sure what he’s trying to say. He’s trying to pin down the proper sentiment in his mind “Do you think he and I will ever get back on track?”

Before Michelle can answer his question, Blaine yawns and rolls over, smiling at his parents on the couch.

“Hey, bud,” Michelle says with a smile. “Nice nap?”

“Yeah, not b-b-b-bad,” Blaine says, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. “Did Katinka leave any of those, those, those … what are they called? Knedles?”

“Yeah, there are some in the kitchen,” Michelle tells him.

“Sweet, I’m gonna go eat s-s-s-some knedles.” He stops on his way out of the room and turns around. “You guys wanna come?” His face is flushed, whether from sleep, or the question, or both, it’s hard to tell, but he looks so young to his parents, standing in the doorway.

“Sure, I could always go for some knedles,” Michelle says.

“Knedles and milk sounds like the perfect combination,” Greg adds.

“I think they’re mmmm-magical,” he tells them earnestly.

As he walks into the kitchen, Blaine can’t stop smiling.

He was very much awake for the majority of their conversation.


	5. Chapter 5

Blaine’s Rate Your Day Speech Journal

November:

1- 7.5  
2- 6  
3- 4 (talked in class, stuttered my face off.)  
4- 8  
5- 9 (talked in class, and didn’t stutter on any b-words. NOT ONE B-WORD ALL DAY LONG!)  
6- 2.5 (just kind of bad day all around, nothing specific, but I guess I was tired? And just kind of grumpy and I think it affected my speech.)  
7- 4 (shrug. Still grumpy.)  
8- 4 (grumble, grumble.)  
9- 8 (less grumpy, ate chicken.)  
10- 7  
11- 6 (Could have been an 8, but I stuttered on my name when I was ordering coffee.)

~~~~~

Blaine sees someone from class as he walks into Starbucks. He smiles and waves at her, his confidence level really high today for some reason.

He stands patiently in line, happy that he has plenty of time to stop for a caramel macchiato today. Usually he doesn’t have time between class and work for coffee, but they got out early and Blaine is really in the mood.

Before it’s his turn, he goes over the list. He finds when he stays on a routine while ordering he’s better off. He always smiles first, and says hi to the counter person. If they’re nice and say hi back, he knows he’s going to have a good interaction. If they don’t, he just needs to press on, and not let himself worry that they’re going to be impatient. He rolls around the phrase “grande caramel macchiato” in his mouth, knowing that they only pitfall might be the “m”, but he’s pretty sure he can get through it.

He’s the last person in line and there are no barista drink orders in front of him, so they probably won’t ask his name. It’s the lowest pressure situation he could ask for.

It’s a new girl at the counter today, and Blaine is ready as he steps up.

“Hi,” he says, smiling broadly.

“Hey,” she answers, almost shyly. “What can I get you?”

Blaine likes people who seem shy. They’re like kindred spirits. Her reserve bodes well for their interaction, he thinks. Then he tells his brain to go fly a kite so he can actually get his order in.

“Um, a … grande caramel … ma, macchiato.” Not perfect, but pretty good he thinks, as he shuffles through his wallet for his cash. Lots of people probably stumble on the word macchiato. Like even people who don’t stutter.

“Name?” the girl behind the counter asks.

He feels his face fall. He looks up at her.

“Um.”

She smiles and gestures with her sharpie, pretending to write on the cup.

He doesn’t want to give a fake name. He should be past that. He clears his throat.

“Bah-bah,” he inhales sharply, and blows his name out on a puff of air. “Bah-bah-laine.”

“Blaine?” she asks, clarifying. He hates that she had to clarify.

He nods and moves down to the end of the counter.

Shit, fuck, hell, he thinks. So close.

~~~~~

12- speech= 8, day in general= 2 (got the wind knocked out of me playing dodgeball with the kids at work. Those fifth graders are big. There’s this one kid, Mark, I like to call him The Incredible Hulk in my head, because seriously, he’s ginormous. Not to mention that he wears a lot of green.)  
13- 6.5  
14- 7  
15- 9 (talked in class and didn’t sound like moron.)  
16- 6  
17- 6  
18- 8  
19- 7.75 (Today could have easily been a 10, but I’m taking .25 points off for not making eye contact when I ordered dinner, and 2 full points off for wimping out at the last minute and not ordering a burrito, even though that’s what I really wanted.)  
20- 9 (talked to Cooper on the phone almost flawlessly.)  
21- 8  
22- 7  
23- 7

~~~~~

“I’m really impressed with ya-you,” Chad says when they sit down to start their session.

“Thanks,” Blaine says.

“Really though, I’ve had lots of people keep speech j-j-journals, I’ve kept them myself, but you’re doing a really good job of striking a balance. You’re able to explain what’s up, and why you’re rating yourself the way you are. Which is just really good work, and honestly not easy to do all the time. Though s-s-stuh-stuttering on your name while ordering coffee is no reason to grade the day down so far,” Chad tells him, smiling when he looks up from Blaine’s notebook.

Blaine shrugs. “One of my s-s-s-self challenges though is to get mm-my name out 75% of the time without st-st-st-stuttering.”

“Do you think that’s realistic?”

“Sure, why not?” Blaine asks, trying not to feel too defensive.

“I just ha-ha-hate the thought of you getting discouraged over something like that, when there are plenty of other things you could be targeting.”

“I guess, b-b-but. I want to try.”

Chad nods and grins. “Then try.”

Blaine takes his notebook back from Chad, feeling like he shared a much bigger piece of himself than he actually did.

“So,” Blaine says.

“Oh! And my other thought. I like how ya-you can separate the way your day is going from h-h-how you’re speaking. That’s a really big deal Blaine. That you’re not letting a bad day ruin the way you feel about your s-s-speech. I’m just … all around impressed with you.”

“Thanks,” Blaine says, feeling extremely bashful about all this praise. “It feels like things are going well. And I like … taking the time at, at, at the end of the d-d-day to think about it.”

Chad nods. “Good. So, what else?”

“Um. I, um. I-I-I have a presentation tomorrow.”

“Okay. Do you feel prepared?”

“I guess?”

“You should sort of know these things, Blaine. Do you need h-h-help?”

“I dah-don’t think so.”

“Okay.”

“I guess I’m just b-br-bringing it up because basically for the first time ever I-I-I feel like I can handle it.”

Chad can’t wipe the grin off his face.

“Will you send me an email and let me know how it goes? Since I won’t see you for a c-c-couple weeks?”

“Yeah.” Something clicks in Blaine’s head from earlier in their conversation. “Bad s-s-speech can ruin a, a, a perfectly good day.”

“Yeah, that’s the sad reality. You need to, to, to figure out a way to not let that happen. When you let bad speech ruin an otherwise good day, you can start falling into a pattern. And that’s ha-ha-hard to dig yourself out of.”

Blaine blinks at Chad.

“Don’t let that get you down,” Chad continues. “Just keep it in mind.”

“Make a mmmm-mental note,” Blaine says.

“Exactly.”

~~~~~

24- 5 (I still suck at any form of public speaking and today I had to give a presentation and I got nervous and I started saying things that don’t make sense because I was avoiding words. And I want to punch myself in the face. I should have advertised my speech when I started, and I didn’t and then everything went up shit’s creek from there.)

~~~~~

To: Chad, From: Blaine  
Date: Tues, Nov 24, 7:44 pm  
Subject: It went not good.

End of Message.

\-----

To: Blaine, From: Chad  
Date: Tues, Nov 24, 7:52 pm  
Subject: re: It went not good.

Care to elaborate?

\-----

To: Chad, From: Blaine  
Date: Tues, Nov 24, 8:02 pm  
Subject: re: It went not good.

Dear Speech Therapist,  
I stuttered too much during my presentation. A lot of it was in my head, so I could cut off the blocks and the prolongations before they were out of my mouth, but there were a lot of covert issues, particularly in the first half. I think the presentation itself went well, but I ended up in a cyclical kind of anxiety whirlwind, where the farther I got into it without stuttering outwardly, the more anxious it made me. Until about halfway through when I decided to start voluntarily stuttering and then I couldn’t stop. And I basically stuttered or repeated every word after that.

Dear Fellow Stutterer,  
I fucking hate my speech. It’s so stupid and annoying. And not fair. And I want to punch it in the face for messing with me all the time.

\-----

To: Blaine, From: Chad  
Date: Tues, Nov 24, 8:28 pm  
Subject: re: It went not good.

Dear Speech Therapy Patient,  
Perhaps if you had voluntarily stuttered from the start, things would have worked better. But I’m sure the presentation in and of itself was fine and your speech issues will not effect your grade. We can discuss this further at your next session. Or we can let it go, seeing as how you seem to have a fairly good grasp on what went wrong.

Dear Fellow Stutterer,  
Ditto.

~~~~~

25- 9 (my mom said I sound good when she picked Kurt and me up at the airport.)  
26- speech= 8, day in general= 10 (stood up for myself to my dad, had an actual conversation with him, eavesdropped on him and my mom saying nice things about me, and pretty much had an all around awesome day.)  
27- speech= 9, day in general= 1.2 (I made the mistake of going Black Friday shopping with my mom and it was terrifying. Although I found a really gorgeous scarf to give Kurt for Christmas, but now I feel like it really doesn’t live up to what I got him last year and I feel like a dork. I might need to get him something else too. I have no idea why I’m writing all this in my speech journal.)  
28- 10 (SAID MY NAME TWICE WITHOUT STUTTERING. I AM A SPEECH CHAMPION! Once introducing myself to one of Cooper’s friends, and once when ordering coffee. Seriously banner day. Nothing else would have even had to have happened today. But the whole day was that good. I’m not sure why every day can’t be that good.)  
29- 9  
30- 4 (after a string of good days, this one just sucked for some reason. I was missing my targets and not anticipating my blocks.)

~~~~~

“So, why was yesterday so bad?” Chad asks, looking over Blaine’s speech journal.

“I have no idea,” Blaine responds, scratching his head. “Just one of, of, of those days?”

“Yeah, I mean, sometimes you can have those. But the other times you’ve had bad days, you’ve known at least v-v-vaguely what was going on, what the catalyst for your s-s-speech was.”

Blaine nods, considering Chad’s words, but not sure he has an appropriate answer.

“It’s important to be able to pinpoint what your issue is. But, sometimes it really is ju-ju-just one of those days. So that’s okay too,” Chad tells him.

Blaine hums, and sighs. “I think, um, I think I was a little sad to um, to leave m-m-my family.”

“That is entirely legitimate.”

“I had a really nice w-w-weekend with them, and I-I-I didn’t want it to end.” He pauses, mulling this over. “Even my da-da-dad. I even had fun with my dad.”

“Good for you, Blaine,” Chad says sincerely.

“It is. So, I guess I was a little sad, or whatever, and that was effecting my s-s-spa-speech.”

“See? Excellent deduction. You really are a ‘speech ch-champion.’” Chad finger quotes around the last phrase, teasing Blaine.

“Go fly a kite. I was r-r-riding a high.”

~~~~~

December:

1- 7  
2- 5 (I’m 98% sure that my professor gave me a “pity B+” on last week’s presentation.)  
3- 10 (Today was the best day I’ve ever had speech wise. Ever. No joke. I don’t think I’ve ever sounded this good, nor do I think I will ever sound this good ever again. December 3, 2015 will go down in history as the best of the best.)  
4- 9 (still good.)  
5- 9 (still really good.)  
6- 7.5  
7- 6  
8- 7  
9- 2 (stuttered in front of the kids at work. That never happens. I just feel sort of discouraged by it even though I know it’s not the worst thing in the world. It just really dragged me down.)  
10- 7  
11- 7.5  
12- 8  
13- 6.5  
14- 3 (just sort of stupid and sucky day. I’m getting too nervous about my presentation.)  
15- 7 (I had to make a presentation in the class I have with Kurt and it made me super, ridiculously, horribly, mega-nervous, but he said I did really well. So I’m going to believe him and pretend I didn’t stutter too much.)

~~~~~

A moment of Kurt

I watch him make his way to the front of the classroom, the way he takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders before turning around. I have a moment where I want to run up next to him and squeeze his hand. Instead I lean forward in my seat, and cross my fingers on both hands for him. I swear, I’m almost as nervous as he is.

When Blaine turns around, he smiles his “shy Blaine smile” though I don’t think anyone else will notice. I only know that’s what it is from a year and a half of studying the man at the front of the room. When he’s feeling shy, his smile reaches his eyes, but it doesn’t quite reach the outer edges of his mouth.

He flicks his unfocused gaze around the room, and his hands flutter uselessly at his sides. He starts talking, his voice clear and even, though a bit colorless compared to his regular speaking voice. As he gets further into his presentation, his facial expression softens, and he begins to gesture and change his inflection. And within a few sentences, he’s just Blaine.

It’s a brief presentation and he’s done quickly. But I have to fight the urge to give him a standing ovation.

He was good. He was very good.

It’s one of those times that I can’t help but compare him to the Blaine I first saw two years ago. He’s such a completely different person.

When he slumps into the seat next to me his face is flushed and his hands have the slightest tremor.

“That was so good, poop,” I tell him, as I kiss is blush warmed cheek.

He scoffs, shakes his head, and then smiles at me.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he whispers.

“I’m not lying,” I reply with a shrug.

“You really aren’t?” he asks, face so open, searching my eyes for the barest hint that I’m patronizing him, or just telling him what he wants to hear.

I flip his hand, palm up, and write “N-O” on it.

He scrunches his face in his patented silent thank you.

~~~~~

16- 7  
17- 5 (A little off today. Too much is going on with the semester ending, not enough focus on my speech.)

~~~~~

A note between Kurt and Blaine in lit class

You are like a public speaking extraordinaire, dumdum.

Except not really.

Yeah, you are. You really know how to keep people interested and engaged. You were pretty captivating.

That was one of the most boring presentations I’ve ever given. I think you’re blinded by your love for me.

No, really, Kurt. I pay a lot of attention to this stuff, for obvious reasons. I try to pick up and learn from other people. I’ve observed a shit ton of public speakers in my life and you’re just effortless up there. You’re *you* and there are an awful lot of people who don’t know how to remain themselves when they speak in public.

Huh. That’s interesting. Though I think I actually do know what you mean.

Good. I win.

Not to become redundant, but you’re no slouch yourself when it comes to public speaking. I know you don’t believe me. But …

Lies.

Seriously! You do such a good job. If I didn’t know you, I would never know how terrified you are when you’re up there.

Stop it. You’re making me blush.

Everything makes you blush. Also, I can see you and you’re not blushing. Now who’s the liar?

KURT! LOOK OVER THERE!

Nice job trying to change the subject...

~~~~~

18- 6 (same as yesterday, but getting better.)  
19- 8  
20- 7  
21- 7.5  
22- speech= 7.5, day in general= 0.1 (I don’t want to stop coming to speech therapy.)

~~~~~

“I’m sorry you’re so bummed about the-the-therapy coming to end,” Chad says as he reviews Blaine’s speech journal one last time.

“You could let mmm-me keep coming forever,” Blaine practically begs, with a ridiculous fake grin glued to his face.

“Blaine. You know that’s silly. You don’t need me right now.”

Blaine’s face falls and he slumps back into the chair. “That’s the caveat there, though, isn’t it? The ‘right now’ part. It’s s-s-so very possible that I’ll need you again.”

“I wish I could tell you you’d never need me, or someone like me again. But that would be a lie,” Chad pauses, searching for the perfect sentiment to allay Blaine’s fears. “I really do think I’m sending you off with the tools to, to, to do your best, and to keep you on track. Don’t you fah-feel ready?”

Blaine rubs his hands across his face. “I guess?”

“Look at all the work you put into that speech jah-journal,” Chad says as he tosses the notebook at Blaine. “Look at how you evaluate and self analyze. You really don’t need me. I’m superfluous to your life at this point.”

“Hey, wait a s-s-s-second!” Blaine exclaims. “What about you be-be-being my friend?”

“Oh that. I’m not superfluous to ya-ya-your social life.”

“Jeez, give a guy a heart attack.”

They both laugh for a second.

“So, before I stop being your speech therapist, do you have qu-qu-questions?”

“Is it wrong to be, be, be, be, um this nervous? Were you nervous when you finished therapy?”

“It’s not wrong. Definitely not wrong. I mean, I could tell you that you don’t need to be nervous, but I feel like it would fall on, on, um deaf ears. And I could tell you that I wasn’t nervous, but that would be a complete lie.” Chad stops and his face breaks into a grin. “I like to th-think of you as my baby bird.”

Blaine puts his hand over his face, and shakes his head, but Chad can see he’s grinning.

“No seriously. You’re like the baby bird, the heh-hesssss-itant one, maybe the runt, and I have to be the mean mama bird that you pushes you out of my nest. I feel like a jah-jerk, but it’s time. You can fly little bird.” Chad glances at the clock as he’s talking, and notices the session is over.

He stands up, and Blaine stands up too.

Chad puts his hand out to shake, and Blaine accepts it.

“You’re fired for telling me that r-ridiculous story about how you’re my b-b-bird mother,” Blaine tells Chad earnestly.

“Understood, that’s why I saved it un-until the end.”

Chad pulls him in the for a hug then, and a couple of pats on the back.

“You got this Blaine, I promise. Just keep up the speech jah-journal, try not to give it up for at least another month or so, and get in touch with me any time you need to.”

“How about we go for a, a, a beer, or something, when I-I-I-I get back after New Year’s?” Blaine asks.

“Sounds good to me,” Chad says with a grin.

~~~~~

5:07 pm  
Blaine: I AM DONE!!!

5:10 pm  
Kurt: YAY!!!!!!! Come over. This deserves chicken, champagne, *AND* blow jobs.

5:12 pm  
Blaine: I GET MULTIPLE BLOW JOBS FOR FINISHING SPEECH THERAPY?!?!?  
Blaine: Man, if I knew that, I would have finished it years ago.

5:14 pm  
Kurt: Don’t I deserve one too font.

5:15 pm  
Blaine: teasing font.

5:23 pm  
Kurt: Waiting for you not so patiently font.

5:26 pm  
Blaine: I’m buying you flowers font.

5:27 pm  
Kurt: AWW FONT.

5:34 pm  
Blaine: Coming up the stairs font.

5:36 pm  
Kurt: Kissing your pulchritudinous face font.

9:07 pm  
Blaine: Damn that was a fine blow job font.

9:10 pm  
Kurt: The feeling is mutual font.

9:11 pm  
Blaine: I love you font.

9:12 pm  
Kurt: The feeling is mutual font. (I think I could get a lot of use out of that one.)


	6. Chapter 6

December 27th  
@ 9:42 pm  
Blaine: Hey dumdum  
Kurt: hey poop  
one sec  
Blaine: okay  
I think I’m gonna talk while you’re gone  
so I got a text from Puck?  
he says he asked Rachel to marry him?  
and she said no  
I’m assuming you’re aware of this but it seems like there’s some kind of drama occurring  
Kurt: YES  
That’s why I asked you to hold on!  
Rachel was weeping on the phone to me  
Blaine: Are they in Ohio?  
because Puck just asked me to go drinking with him  
Kurt: Yeah, they are  
he forgets sometimes that you don’t live in Lima  
If you want to hang out with him and offer your support in his time of need, you’re more than welcome to come stay herrrrrre...  
Blaine: I’m coming there for New Year’s Eve anyway  
so maybe I’ll come a day or two early :D  
Kurt: YAYAYAYAY  
Blaine: now back to the drama at hand  
what the fuck?  
did you know he was going to propose?  
Kurt: NOOOOO!!!  
Blaine: It’s kind of a terrible idea  
Kurt: I know  
they’re too young  
and Rachel has been engagement-phobic since Finn asked her to marry him lo those many years ago.  
Blaine: I forgot that detail!  
man, you told you me so much about everybody before I knew who they were  
Kurt: You were my anonymouse internet friend  
I figured you wouldn’t hurt anyone  
Blaine: because I was “anonymouse”  
Kurt: teehee  
bite me  
Blaine: okay  
Kurt: you’re too accepting of that  
Blaine: you asked me to  
and I am happy to oblige  
Kurt: facepalm  
is Matt coming for New Year’s Eve?  
Blaine: yeah  
Kurt: that will mildly complicate things  
is he coming *here* or was he meeting you at your house?  
Blaine: No, he was coming to Lima  
Kurt: what about Kerry?  
Blaine: No she’s in California with her friend from high school  
Kurt: oh that’s right  
ANYWAY  
Blaine: so Puck is bummed  
of course  
Kurt: and Rachel’s losing her mind  
of course  
Blaine: so explain to me what happened  
you know Puck isn’t one to divulge useful details  
he can barely text  
even when he isn’t reeling from being rejected by Rachel  
Kurt: true  
okay  
so he did the whole thing, got down on one knee, had a ring  
she said no, she thinks they’re too young, they don’t even live together  
she’s not sure he’s completely tameable  
etc.  
Blaine: did she actually use the phrase “completely tameable”  
Kurt: of course.  
Blaine: of. course.  
Kurt: so the only stuff Puck heard was the no and the questioning of his tame-ability  
Blaine: terrible  
Kurt: seriously terrible  
so he broke up with her  
Blaine: WHAT?!?  
he didn’t say he broke up with her  
only that she rejected him  
I didn’t think they would break up!  
Kurt: Well, I mean, I kind of can’t blame him in a way  
because she didn’t exactly make him think they had a future  
and if he’s as set on this as he seems to be  
then he probably figures she’s wasting his time  
Blaine: I guess  
but like, they love each other  
I don’t know  
I feel like if you’re meant to be together, you’re meant to be together  
even if you’re not ready to be married.  
Kurt: yeah, I don’t think Puck understands these gray areas  
Blaine: there’s a certain subtlety with regards to emotions that might not make sense to Noah Puckerman  
Kurt: exactly  
I love you and I want to be with you forever  
but I don’t really think we should get married yet.  
Blaine: I know I want to marry you  
Kurt: I know I want to marry you, too  
but that doesn’t mean we’re actually ready to be married.  
Blaine: see now this brings up an interesting point  
Kurt: why? do you think we’re ready to get married?  
Blaine: I guess not  
I mean, but if we’re both interested in getting married, then what’s the difference?  
Kurt: I don’t know  
it’s just … more  
I mean, we haven’t lived together yet  
what if I hate your morning bathroom routine  
Blaine: there’s no way in hell you’d break up with me over a morning bathroom routine  
you might banish me to use the kitchen sink or something  
but you would still love me  
Kurt: fine. I don’t know.  
I’m not ready to be *married*  
it’s big, it feels too old for us  
Blaine: okay  
Kurt: are you mad at me?  
Blaine: Actually no  
I just felt like being contrary :D  
I think we’d be stupid to get married this young  
We both need to finish school  
and be more financially stable  
and have like careers  
and live together  
and everything  
Kurt: I am so fucking relieved  
you were scaring me  
Blaine: I know, I’m sorry  
but I also feel like if we could make it through your semester abroad  
Kurt: we could pretty much make it through anything  
Blaine: don’t put words in my mouth  
what if I was going to say that “we could make a good ice dancing team in the next Olympics”  
Kurt: that’s illogical.  
you’re a terrible ice skater  
Blaine: BUT WE COULD DO ANYTHING KURT.  
WE CAN BE ANYTHING WE PUT OUR MINDS TO.  
Kurt: How many cookies have you eaten today Blaine?  
Blaine: Four.  
Kurt: oh, thats normal  
Blaine: Teen.  
Kurt: That’s less normal.  
Blaine: plus 10  
Kurt: so two dozen cookies?  
Blaine: yes  
chocolate chip  
sugar  
merengue  
some Serbian ones that Katinka brought  
those other ones I like, you know, with the Hershey kisses on them?  
a couple of those leaf cookies from the bakery  
but only pink ones because the green ones are boring  
the rainbow bakery ones, with the chocolate around them  
Kurt: Did you eat anything else today besides cookies Blaine?  
Blaine: maybe  
Kurt: chicken?  
Blaine: not  
Kurt: BLAINE  
Blaine: What? you’re not my mom  
she likes when I eat all the leftover cookies  
Kurt: eye roll  
Blaine: and I’m joking  
I ate all of the leftover everything  
mashed potatoes  
and this broccoli and cheese casserole thing that my aunt makes  
and ham, because I already ate the rest of the chicken yesterday  
and then I went for a run. Like 11 miles? So I’m not a gross pig.  
Kurt: I don’t think you’re a gross pig.  
Blaine: I don’t know. My ass might be getting bigger.  
Kurt: I like your ass no matter how big it is.  
Blaine: Thanks. I like your ass too.  
I should probably run more tomorrow though  
Kurt: Hey Blaine.  
Blaine: It will give me a good excuse to go buy a rotisserie chicken  
sup?  
Kurt: This might be sort of … deep for im  
but after our little conversation about marriage it seems natural  
Blaine: nothing’s too deep for im  
I like typing about deep stuff  
Kurt: true. Okay. Um.  
do you want to have kids?  
I just realized we’ve never discussed this  
and I always assumed that you do  
because you’re fantastic with them  
but um. Do you personally want children?  
WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME HANGING??  
Blaine: chill Kurt.  
yes. I want kids  
I’ve thought about this a lot  
because I really do like kids, and I kind of can’t imagine *not* having kids  
I don’t know if I would want to go with the surrogate/egg thing  
I’d like to adopt  
I mean, if you would be into it, I would do whatever you want to do  
but I think it’s a good opportunity to help a kid that might not otherwise have a family  
Kurt: you’re wonderful  
I think that’s a lovely sentiment  
Blaine: blushing font  
Kurt: And yeah. we could do it however you wanted.  
I definitely want kids though  
maybe 2 or 3?  
Blaine: sure. I’m game for that.  
do you want one of your *own*?  
just cause it’s not a big deal to me, doesn’t mean you can’t want to go the surrogate/egg route  
Kurt: I don’t know  
maybe?  
we obviously don’t have to work this all out tonight  
but it seemed like a good time to broach the topic.  
Blaine: yeah.  
I’m kind of smiling like an idiot.  
Kurt: me too  
I love you an awful lot  
Blaine: I love you too  
Kurt: you don’t have to go do you?  
Blaine: no?  
Kurt: usually we say I love you at the end  
so I was worried you were about to tell me you had to go  
Blaine: You’re cute  
Kurt: SO ARE YOU  
Blaine: nooooooooooooo  
Kurt: yesssssssssssssss  
Blaine: okay  
fine  
I’m fucking adorable  
I can’t help it though  
Kurt: I know you can’t  
it’s your cross to bear  
bare?  
wtf I hate homophones  
Blaine: it’s bear  
Kurt: of course you know that  
because you’re cute and ridiculously smart  
Blaine: oh stop it  
you’re going to give me a big head  
Kurt: go fly a kite :)  
Blaine: too cold  
I prefer being on the internet  
Kurt: why aren’t we skyping?  
Blaine: because this way my mom isn’t standing at the door listening to me talk  
Kurt: does she really do that?  
Blaine: She’s very excited about my speech these days  
it’s not even like she’s eavesdropping really  
she says she just likes listening to me talk  
Kurt: apparently your type of adorable is genetic  
Blaine: It’s not adorable! It’s annoying!  
and you know as soon as I think someone’s listening I start messing up more  
Kurt: You barely “mess up” at all anymore  
Blaine: shrug. I mess up a lot in my head.  
and sometimes it feels like everything I learned in speech is a cover up or something  
like it’s not a real fix. like it can’t be real.  
Kurt: I didn’t know you felt that way still  
you seem... like you don’t think like that anymore  
Blaine: I think I’ll always think like that  
I don’t know  
it’s dumb. It’s not your problem  
Kurt: Um, Blaine?  
we just spent like the majority of the past hour discussing our future together  
the fact that we see ourselves getting married and having kids and a life together  
and suddenly you think something like this isn’t my problem?  
I mean, I know it’s your stuff to deal with  
but it’s my problem because I love you  
and I want you to be happy and I want you to be able to tell me *anything*  
even if you think it’s dumb.  
Blaine: I know  
but this stuff, this is whiny asshole pity party bullshit

~~~~~

11:07 pm  
Incoming call: Kurt

If you’re calling to, to, to tell mmm-mmm-me I’m not a whiny asshole you can hold it rrrrrr-right there.

You’re not a whiny asshole.

Yes I-I-I-I-I am.

Blaine.

Kurt.

Would I love you if you were a whiny asshole?

Maybe. I-I-I mm-mean, you’re favorite tv show is, is, is America’s Next Top Model.

Stop it.

Not to m-m-m-m-mention that you’re all time favorite Disney mmmm-movie is The Blah-blah-ack Cauldron.

It is not!

Then why di-di-di-did you cry, Kurt? Why di-di-did you cry?

Because anyone who doesn’t cry during a Disney movie is a soulless, emotionless robot!

Oh, so so so nah-now I’m a r-r-r-robot?

Poop

Dumdum

Blaine.

Kurt.

I love you.

I love you, too. Buh-buh-but I’m not sure you’ll ever rrrrrr-really understand certain things about my spah-spah-speech.

Okay. Fair enough. You can try to help me understand.

I-I-I-I know. And s-s-s-s-sometimes I-I-I-I want to. Other times, um, other times I dah-don’t w-w-w-w-want to.

I can respect that. Don’t ever feel like you can’t talk to me or tell me stuff, though. For any reason.

It’s … it’s pp-pp-preh-preh-pri-tty hard to, to, to explain.

I’m fairly smart.

It’s nah-nah-nah-not that Kurt. It’s that a, a, a lot of it sss-sss-sounds like “oh poor Blaine,” he can’t talk r-r-r-right and n-n-n-nothing in his life is good or, or, or happy. When a lot of st-st-st-st-stuff in mmmmm-my life is very good and happy. Most of it thanks to to to you.

You just said your name.

That’s p-p-part of the pr-pr-problem too! More and more I can do things that I-I-I-I used to not be be be be able to. So I-I-I get comfortable with the idea of b-b-b-b-being able to say mmm-my name 50% of the time, but, but, but then I can’t say it at the wah-worst mm-mm-moments. Like when I-I-I-I-I need to introduce myself. It all, it all, it all feels false. It all feels ... fleeting.

But you’re doing a really good job.

Thanks, but like, it could change at any time. I might lose control, or get tired of working at it, and then it could just be gone.

Then you won’t let it happen.

Kurt. You know how many relapses Chad has had?

How many? I’m guessing more than zero?

Three.

Oh. But you’re not Chad. Maybe you won’t have so many.

No, I’m not Chad. But I was talking to my dad at Thanksgiving, and he said he still worries about his speech everyday. And he hasn’t really stuttered since like … the 80’s. It’s just there. It’s ever present. Omnipresent. Just waiting to attack.

Okay. I think I really do understand that.

Good. Can w-w-w-we go bah-bah-bah-back to im-ing now?

Of course.

~~~~~

Blaine: I didn’t mean to hang up without saying bye  
I don’t want you think I hung up on you  
my thumb slipped  
Kurt: It’s okay  
I understand  
you hate me  
and you can’t seem to get rid of me  
and I force you to talk on the phone even though you hate it  
Blaine: I do hate it  
not as much as I used to.  
this time wasn’t so bad  
and I think it was awfully nice to hear your voice.  
Kurt: It was awfully nice to hear *your* voice too  
Blaine: getting back to the matter at hand  
have you heard from Rachel?  
Kurt: she cried herself to sleep on my bed  
Blaine: When did she even come over?  
Kurt: around the time we were discussing babies  
Blaine: I could have let you go talk to her.  
Kurt: No, no, she didn’t need to talk  
I think Carole gave her a slice of cake and some milk  
sometimes when Rachel needs “mom” time she talks to Carole  
Blaine: Carole’s a good “mom”  
particularly when you need a stand-in, I’d imagine.  
Kurt: she really, really is  
so did your mom listen to us talk on the phone while holding a glass to your door?  
Blaine: no, she was in the room next door with a stethoscope  
purchased expressly for this reason  
Kurt: wow, she’s invested.  
Blaine: she is  
Kurt: you know it’s because she’s proud of you right?  
Blaine: I know. I guess it feels like a lot of … pressure sometimes  
Kurt: she told Carole how proud she is on Thanksgiving  
Blaine: Carole and my mom talked about me?  
and you’re only telling me this now?  
Kurt: Carole only just mentioned it today  
Blaine: oh. okay. weird.  
they talked about me? Or about both of us?  
Kurt: I don’t know the specifics  
But your mom said that she’s proud of you and happy for you  
Blaine: Hmm.  
Kurt: What?  
Blaine: I dunno  
I feel conspicuous.  
Kurt: You always feel conspicuous  
Blaine: Are you annoyed at me?  
Kurt: what? no.  
not at all  
I want to make sure you’re okay  
and you don’t ever have to feel like you’re disappointing me or something  
Blaine: I have no idea how you do that  
Kurt: do what?  
Blaine: figure out what my problem is even when I don’t really know  
Kurt: you could never disappoint me  
Blaine: I could disappoint *me*  
Kurt: Yeah, but that’s *your* problem  
you’ll have to dig yourself out of that hole.  
Blaine: not fair  
I need your support  
Kurt: you have my support  
I just refuse to get dirty  
Blaine: bad joke, Kurt  
Kurt: These things happen.  
Blaine: bad jokes happen to good people  
Kurt: and on that note  
I suppose I should go wake Rachel up  
see if she’s sleeping here tonight  
or if she needs anything  
judging by the volume of her snores  
I would guess a tissue  
Blaine: lovely  
Kurt: isn’t it though?  
Blaine: I’ll come on Tuesday I think.  
and I’ll tell Puck I’m coming  
are you allowed to hang out with Puck or do you have to be on Rachel’s side?  
Kurt: I can hang out with Puck  
but I’ll see if Rachel could use me that night before I make plans with you guys  
I’m sure Finn will come out too.  
Blaine: okay, cool  
Kurt: I’ll talk to you before then though, I’m sure  
Blaine: yes  
Kurt: bye poop  
Blaine: bye fella  
Kurt: love you  
Blaine: love you  
Kurt: love you more  
Blaine: go fly a kite


	7. Chapter 7

To: Everyone, From: Blaine  
Date: Wed, Jan 13, 8:42 pm  
Subject: Matthew’s upcoming birthday celebration

I’m sure all of you are aware of the fact that Matt’s turning 21 this weekend (finally). And I’ve decided that we need to do something for his birthday (obviously). I’m pretty sure he’d kill me if I didn’t plan anything.

I was thinking, rather than having a party, because parties cost money and we all just spent 500 bucks on our spring break plans, perhaps we could have everyone meet at the Pub on Saturday night around 10? If we get there around 10 we might snag the awesome back room and it’ll practically feel like a private party. And Matt won’t notice that I’m cheap as hell and didn’t throw a party for him.

So, Saturday @ 10 @ the Pub.

Pass it on to everyone you think he’d want to come and I will too.

Do you think Sam and Finn would want to come?

~~~~~

To: Everyone, From: Puck  
Date: Wed, Jan 13, 9:03 pm  
Subject: re: Matthew’s upcoming birthday celebration

Fucking finally. I thought that kid was going to be 20 for the rest of our fucking lives.

I talked to Finn and they’re gonna drive out on Thursday. They can stay at my place or wherever. I told him we’d find somewhere for them to say. Or they could just shack up in Berry’s bed, since SHE’LL SLEEP ALONE FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE.

Sent from my iPhone

~~~~~

To: Everyone, From: Rachel  
Date: Wed, Jan 13, 9:14 pm  
Subject: re: Matthew’s upcoming birthday celebration

Shut up Puck. Must we fight about this in an email chain with all of our friends? I’m going to knee you in the balls next time I see you. (and it will be the most action your balls have seen since you ditched my ass. OH! BURN!)

Ahem.

Yes. Matt’s birthday. Wonderful. I’ll be there. Finn and Sam can stay with Kurt and I if they like.

~~~~~

To: Everyone, From: Kurt  
Date: Wed, Jan 13, 9:28 pm  
Subject: re: Matthew’s upcoming birthday celebration

Yeah, Finn and Sam can stay with us. (Anyone else still laughing at Puck’s balls? Just me?)

Blaine can you borrow Matt’s phone/steal some of his contacts and send out a mass text about Saturday night? I feel like there are people who would come who we don’t really talk to.

Like that bongo player from last year?

~~~~~

To: Everyone, From: Blaine  
Date: Wed, Jan 13, 9:50 pm  
Subject: re: Matthew’s upcoming birthday celebration

Yeah, I figured I’d do that, find people that I might not otherwise think of. And I figured Kerry might be able to think of a few extra people.

~~~~~

To: Everyone, From: Tina  
Date: Wed, Jan 13, 9:59 pm  
Subject: re: Matthew’s upcoming birthday celebration

I’ll be there!!

~~~~~

To: Everyone, From: DiDi  
Date: Wed, Jan 13, 10:04 pm  
Subject: re: Matthew’s upcoming birthday celebration

On behalf of Julia and myself we shall be there to commemorate the 21st time that the earth has traversed the sun during the span of Matthew’s life.

Or some junk.

~~~~~

To: Everyone, From: Puck  
Date: Wed, Jan 13, 10:18 pm  
Subject: re: Matthew’s upcoming birthday celebration

Berry is the president of the itty bitty titty committee.

Just saying.

Sent from my iPhone

~~~~~

To: Everyone, From: Kerry  
Date: Wed, Jan 13, 10:42 pm  
Subject: re: Matthew’s upcoming birthday celebration

Wait, is this a surprise? Or a surprise of how many people we’re inviting?

And yes. I can think of a couple people to invite that you guys might not think of/ be able to get in touch with. I’ll work on them.

Anyone else super uncomfortable about Rachel and Puck’s fight? Just me?

~~~~~

To: Everyone, From: Blaine  
Date: Wed, Jan 13, 10:54 pm  
Subject: re: Matthew’s upcoming birthday celebration

No, not a surprise, really. But it would be cool if he didn’t realize we were inviting so many people. That could be fun. Also I didn’t want to include him in the plans because he has too many opinions and that ruins everything.

I find Rachel and Puck’s fighting hilarious. Hilariously painful.

~~~~~

To: Everyone, From: Rachel  
Date: Wed, Jan 13, 11:17 pm  
Subject: re: Matthew’s upcoming birthday celebration

FUCK YOU PUCKERMAN.

~~~~~

To: Everyone, From: Puck  
Date: Wed, Jan 13, 11:20 pm  
Subject: re: Matthew’s upcoming birthday celebration

NEVER AGAIN.

Sent from my iPhone

 

~~~~~

Puck insists on taking Matt out on Friday at midnight, and Rachel insists on staying home. They only go out for a drink or two, well aware that Saturday night will include plenty of celebrating for everyone.

Blaine’s plans (with everyone else’s help) work out perfectly the next evening. They get there early enough to take over the back room, which is wood paneled and has a built in bench on three walls. There’s plenty of space for dancing and there’s even a separate bar area. Matt is thrilled. As more and more people spill in, he’s shocked and happy to see how many people his friends tracked down.

“You guys are awesome,” he says to Blaine and Kerry early in the evening. He plants a quick kiss in Kerry’s hair and then does the same to Blaine.

Blaine pretends to wipe it away and Matt punches him in the kidney. Kerry backs away a bit and orders a drink, not interested in getting caught in the fray. Blaine punches Matt back, maybe a bit harder than strictly necessary.

“Damn. I always forget how much your tiny fists of fury hurt,” Matt teases.

Blaine feigns another punch, and Matt puts his hands up in surrender.

“I think we should call a truce on account of drinking,” Matt says.

Blaine nods and orders them shots. Not one for toasts or anything, they simply clink glasses and take them down. The need for toasting comes on about an hour later, when Matt has taken three shots and has had another drink or two on top of that. Blaine’s not far behind, but he’s definitely not nearly as drunk as Matt is.

Matt hooks an arm around Blaine’s neck, the way he tends to.

“You know you’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” Matt slurs lightly.

“Nah, I-I-I doubt that,” Blaine says.

“No really!” Matt exclaims. “You’re like the most loyal and kind and best and good friend. Ever.”

Blaine smiles up at him, realizing even in his fairly inebriated state, that Matt is being entirely sincere.

“Well, I don’t have to tell you that you’re the b-b-best friend I’ve ever had, right?”

“A better friend than Kurt?” Matt asks with pout.

“Not fair,” Blaine says.

“Because of the fellatio?” Matt inquires reverentially.

Blaine laughs and decides to turn the question around. “Do you consider Kerry a beh-better friend than me?”

Matt looks at him seriously. “Course not. She does sexy things for me that you don’t do, but you’re important in a different way.”

“Exactly.”

“Fellatio,” Matt repeats, dragging the word out in a deep voice.

Blaine shakes his head and gives Matt a pat on the back.

They decide to take another shot.

~~~~~

Several minutes (or possibly more?) later, things are getting blurry for Blaine. He’s feeling good. He needs to find Kurt to make sure Kurt’s feeling this good. And if Kurt isn’t feeling this good, he needs to come up with a way to make sure he will.

He finds Kurt in the corner, chatting animatedly with Rachel. Rachel has decided that hiding and staying out of Puck’s way is the best strategy for the evening. So far it seems to be working. Puck’s on the other side of the room, playing darts with Matt and a bunch of guys that Blaine is only vaguely familiar with.

Blaine stands in front of Kurt for a moment, debating his options. He decides that sitting on Kurt’s lap is without a doubt the best move possible.

He plops down and weaves his arms around Kurt’s shoulders.

“Whoa there, poop,” Kurt says with a smile, trying to keep his drink from spilling.

“Hiya,” Blaine whispers.

“So, approximately how drunk are you?” Kurt asks.

“I’m not drunk, I’m just intoxicated by your presence,” Blaine says in a voice that’s not really his own. He’s not sure who he’s impersonating, but it’s someone funny. He waggles his eyebrows in a way that his alcohol soaked brain tells him is seductive.

Rachel and Kurt immediately burst out laughing.

“Don’t you think I’m s-s-sexy?” Blaine asks in his own voice.

“I think I need to, um,” Rachel gestures in 4 different directions and the speed walks away giggling.

“You’re very sexy, Blaine. Do you feel sick? Do you need to go home?” Kurt runs his fingers through Blaine’s hair, trying to get a better look at his face. There’s no way Blaine drank that much that fast and isn’t on the road to alcohol poisoning, Kurt thinks.

“Wha?” Blaine slurs. “No way!” And then he kisses behind Kurt’s ear.

“Ha, haha,” Kurt breathes uncomfortably, as Blaine continues to trail kisses down his neck.

Then Blaine blows a raspberry on Kurt’s cheek. And that somehow makes Kurt less concerned. Blaine’s silly and drunk, but not in need of getting his stomach pumped.

“I think I need to catch up with you,” Kurt tells Blaine.

“Yes,” Blaine groans dramatically. “It’s so much more fun where I-I-I am.” And he leans way back almost touching his fingers to the floor, revealing a sliver of stomach to Kurt, who against his better judgment, runs a finger across the exposed skin.

Blaine bolts upright.

“Are those s-s-space pants you’re wearing? Because my penis likes them,” Blaine announces.

Kurt laughs and covers his face. “Okay. I need more to drink.”

Blaine and Kurt don’t spend the entire night together, they bob and weave and talk to various people. But every once in awhile, Blaine will swoop in and whisper something in Kurt’s ear.

After talking to Rachel for a few minutes, Blaine finds Kurt leaning on the bar, chatting with some of Puck’s roommates and Tina’s cousin. Kurt turns towards Blaine as he approaches.

Blaine shoves his hands in Kurt’s back pockets.

“Hey, fella. You’ve been running through my penis’s mind all day,” Blaine says in his newly minted voice of seduction.

“I think you forgot the beginning of that pick up line.”

Blaine screws up his face in confusion and then his expression brightens.

“Are you tired? Cause you’ve been running through my penis’s mmm-mind all day.” Then Blaine giggles and does a little dance before leaning in to kiss Kurt, a bit passionately for a public place, at least in Kurt’s only partially drunken mind.

“Hey, poop,” Kurt whispers, as he pulls away. “Calm down a little. Have some water okay?”

Blaine nods, a dopey grin on his face, and then he starts working his lips on Kurt’s neck, sucking and biting and Kurt’s well aware that he’ll have a hickey in the morning. But it feels good enough that he can’t quite bring himself to care, even if they are in public.

Kurt pulls away, because he can feel that Blaine’s semi-hard.

“You really need to calm down, because I’m not having sex in a bar bathroom,” Kurt whispers.

Kurt makes eye contact with Blaine, making sure he’s listening. Blaine is already quite flushed, from the alcohol and the heat of the room, but Kurt notices a bit more pink appear in his cheeks after that. He gives Kurt a sad puppy dog look and leans in again to kiss along his jawline.

“Later, okay,” Kurt giggles as he pushes Blaine back. “I promise when we get home.”

“Later,” Blaine mumbles resignedly, and Kurt orders him a glass of water.

At one point while Kurt is chatting with Julia and DiDi (who have become very good friends over the past few months), Blaine comes up behind him and says, “Did you fall from heaven? Because I really like your penis.”

Julia and DiDi both stare at Blaine.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re not actually whispering, Blaine,” Kurt explains gently. After the glass of water and a break from alcohol, Blaine looks a lot more aware of things than he did earlier. Little does Kurt know that Blaine also shotgunned a Red Bull and vodka at some point.

“Oh, that’s cool.” Blaine would be mortified under normal circumstances, he’s not particularly close to Julia, but he’s a mixture of giddy and drunk and energized that he’s never actually felt before.

“Kurt has a really nice penis,” he tells the girls, conspiratorially, before moving on.

A little while later, Kurt and Blaine are dancing within a large group of people and Blaine yells “My penis can cut through a hot knife with butter.”

“That’s not a pick up line. That’s a Chuck Norris joke,” Kurt tells him, as he walks over the bar.

“Why do you always r-r-ruin my fun?” Blaine calls after him.

As the night begins to wind down, Blaine and Kurt are sitting together on the bench against the wall. Blaine’s nursing a beer and thinks of something really funny to tell Kurt.

He leans his head on Kurt’s shoulder and whispers, “My penis says hello.”

When he hears a girlish giggle he sits up.

“Wrong direction, lover boy,” Kerry tells him with a smile, as she turns Blaine to face Kurt on the other side.

She leans past Blaine and yells at Kurt, “Blaine has something to tell you,” before returning to her spot.

Kurt raises an eyebrow at Blaine, who smiles lazily.

“Did your penis have something it wanted to tell me?” Kurt asks. He never quite caught up to Blaine, drinking wise, but he’s plenty tipsy at the moment and sort of can’t wait for what Blaine might have to say this time.

Blaine bring his mouth to Kurt’s ear and breathes slowly. Kurt’s eyelids flutter closed at the almost touch.

“Hi,” Blaine says. “My penis says hi.”

Kurt turns his face to eskimo kiss Blaine, who then abruptly bulls back.

“It also says it has to piss,” he tells Kurt earnestly.

Kurt bursts out laughing as Blaine shoots across the bar, beer bottle in hand and stumbles into Puck and Rachel, who have been having a public, drunken argument, on and off, for about two hours. Blaine bumps Rache,l and his beer tips on the floor.

He looks at her, scandalized. “Oopsy!” he coos. She smiles, because at least he didn’t get in on her shoes.

Blaine looks at Puck, “You know she really likes your penis.”

He continues to rush to the bathroom but stops when he hears Rachel giggle behind him. He notices Puck’s face soften and Rachel leans in to whisper, “It’s true. I do like your penis.” Moments later they’re locked in an embrace, kissing desperately.

Blaine pumps a fist in the air as he continues to the men’s room. As he stands at the urinal he whispers, “I am the penis fairy.” It’s only then that he looks around the room, and breathes a sigh of relief to find himself alone.

When he’s done, he reenters the bar and learns that it’s time to go home. He’s sad, until he remembers Kurt’s promise of “later.” Then he’s happy.

The groups break off as they walk. Matt and Kerry are going to her place, Puck and Rachel are headed to her’s, Blaine and Kurt are going to Blaine’s. Sam and Finn left a while ago to go home with Puck’s roommates.

“Hey Kurt,” Blaine slurs as they walk, finally alone, Kurt’s arm firmly around Blaine’s waist. “Did you know that I’m the penis fairy?”

“I’m not sure I want to know what you’re talking about,” Kurt says.

“Well, I told Puck that Rachel likes his penis, and now they’re bah-bah-back together.” He smiles at Kurt.

Kurt stops there in the street and wraps his arms around Blaine.

“I love you so much,” Kurt sighs. Somehow tonight his love for Blaine was brought into sharp focus. Blaine chased him around for hours, making him laugh, making him blush. They’ve been together for almost a year and a half and Kurt never feels tired of Blaine. Kurt never feels like he needs a break.

“I love you, too,” Blaine breathes into Kurt’s neck. And then he pulls back and grins impishly.

“Is that a penis in your pocket? Cause I want it in my buh-butt!”

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt groans.

They get to Blaine’s and Kurt makes sure they both drink plenty of water. Blaine gets undressed and crawls into bed. He cuddles into the pillows and waits for Kurt to enter the bedroom. He yawns and rolls over, letting his eyes close.

Kurt comes in, moments later, and finds Blaine sprawled out, hugging a pillow, snoring soundly already.

“I can’t believe after all that, he passed out.” Kurt shakes his head and finds a comfortable spot to curl up next to his fella.

~~~~~

In the morning, Blaine is accosted by the rays of sun streaming through his blinds. His eyes feel glued shut, his skin feels at least one size too small, he once again smells like fermented roadkill. He rolls over, remembering that Kurt came home with him last night and finds the other side of the bed empty. Checking his cell phone, he sees that it’s nearly noon.

Kurt probably got bored and went to watch tv in the living room.

Blaine does the only thing he can at the moment and rolls around moaning and clutching his stomach. He knows that part of the problem is that he drank way too many different kinds of alcohol last night. He stops rolling around and his mind clears as he remembers making up pickup lines. He sits up for minute and blushes and barks out a laugh at the memory.

Kurt must hear him then, because he comes into the room, bearing a bagel, a jug of water, and a bottle of aspirin tucked under his arm.

“Hey there, poop,” Kurt greets with a grin. “How ya feeling this morning?”

Blaine says nothing, instead flopping down face first on the bed.

“That good, huh?” Kurt sets everything down on the nightstand and settles on the bed next to Blaine, rubbing his back slowly.

“Anything I can do?”

“Put mmm-me out of my mmm-misery,” Blaine mumbles into his pillow.

“Hmm, no,” Kurt says soothingly, still rubbing Blaine’s back. He stops for a second to fill Blaine’s glass and Blaine rolls over again.

“Rub my b-b-b-belly?” Blaine pouts.

Kurt reaches a hand under Blaine’s t-shirt and rubs gentle circles across his abdomen. Blaine lets out a little hum. They stay like that for a few minutes, Blaine’s eyes drawing closed, feeling better already. He stills Kurt’s hand and laces their fingers together before sitting up, popping a few aspirin and taking a long drink of water.

“Thank you,” Blaine says sincerely.

“Anytime, Blaine,” Kurt says, running his hands through Blaine’s hair. “Anytime.”


	8. Chapter 8

January was clear and cold and February started the same way. Blaine is thrilled that this winter he can run outside. Though it’s just above freezing out, there’s very little ice or snow on the ground and he wants to take advantage of it. Unlike last winter, which he spent the majority of running on a treadmill. Blaine hates treadmills.

Blaine doesn’t need running the way he used to. He doesn’t need an outlet, some way to pass the time. Obviously he still likes it, he likes being athletic and it pretty much gives him license to eat whatever he wants, but it’s not necessary the same way it was even a year ago.

Running still makes him happy, but it’s on a much longer list these days.

This morning he figured he’d jog around the neighborhood, before ending up at Kurt’s. He should technically stop home and shower first, but he wants to see Kurt. He always wants to see Kurt, but this particularly morning his drive to see Kurt is higher than usual. It’s their first Valentine’s Day spent together and in the same country, and while Blaine feels like they don’t need a special day to remember that they love each other, he doesn’t want to let February 14th pass without at least a little bit of fanfare.

Blaine is aware that he should have made real plans for Valentine’s Day with Kurt. Something besides them agreeing to do dinner together. But he wasn’t lying last February when he said that everyday with Kurt is Valentine’s.

He thinks about this as he runs, up and down streets, avoiding small saplings and children, easily hopping over a dog’s leash at one point, thrilled not to land on his ass. No one will ever say that Blaine Anderson doesn’t learn his lesson.

He stops off for coffee and pastries, knowing Kurt would balk at the idea of going to buy pastries, but if a cheese danish is set in front of him, he won’t hesitate to eat it.

He sneaks through the street level door to Kurt’s building as someone is walking out and runs up the stairs to knock. Kurt swings the door open wearing his pajamas and a sweatshirt, because his building doesn’t retain any heat in the winter, to find Blaine, cute and sweaty and proffering baked goods on the other side.

“I like your red hat,” Kurt says by way of greeting. Kurt takes a good look at Blaine as he leans against the door jam, unable to stop himself from comparing the man in front of him to the Blaine from two years ago. He was wearing a similar ensemble that day in February when he helped Kurt pick up his papers. He was so shy that he couldn’t look Kurt in the eye, could barely even smile. And now here he is, in all his ridiculous glory, kneeling before Kurt with a pastry box and coffees. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Be-be-be-cause it’s funnier this ww-way,” Blaine explains earnestly. “Also, I-I-I figured you wouldn’t yell at me for being smelly if you couldn’t smell mmmm-me.”

Kurt takes a deep inhale through his nose. “All I smell is coffee.” He grabs the drink holder out Blaine’s hands and Blaine stands up. Kurt leans in to kiss to him and then stops. “Ew. You smell like cold, outside, sweaty boy.”

Blaine frowns dramatically.

“And I love it!” Kurt exclaims, moving back in to kiss him wholeheartedly, before stepping out of the way so Blaine can enter the apartment.

“Thank you for lying,” Blaine says as they walk over to the kitchen island.

“I’m not lying,” Kurt says. “I just look forward to getting in the shower with you.”

“After b-b-b-breakfast?” Blaine asks pointedly.

“After breakfast,” Kurt agrees, as he grabs plates out of the cupboard and then settles on one of the kitchen stools.

Blaine bought several different kinds of danishes and two heart shaped cookies that Kurt can’t help but giggle over. Blaine unzips his fleece and hangs it over a chair before looking over to see what Kurt’s chortling about.

“Oh yeah,” Blaine says. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Blaine stands between Kurt’s knees and leans in to capture his mouth, resting his hands on Kurt’s thighs and begins rubbing circles with his fingertips.

Blaine pulls back. “Are we, we, we, uh, alone?”

“Yeah, Rachel and Puck left on some kind of surprise Valentine’s day overnight trip yesterday.”

“Why didn’t I sss-sta-stay here last night?” Blaine asks quizzically, not remembering immediately.

“Because you told me you wanted to get up early to run, and I didn’t feel like waking up early so you said you’d go home. Any of this ringing a bell?”

“Yes. You said the b-b-best Valentine’s Day gift I-I-I could give you would be to let you ss-sleep in until at least 10. It’s all coming bah-back to me now.”

“And you are like a puppy in the morning. There’s no sleeping in when you’re around.”

“I think I-I-I-I-I might be, um, be offended.”

Kurt bats Blaine’s shoulder. “You are not. You know it’s the truth.”

They take their breakfast into the living room and eat it while lounging on the sofa watching HGTV. Anytime they watch house hunting shows together, their conversation drifts to their dream home.

“We need a, a, a jetted tub,” Blaine says seriously. They’re huddled together on the couch, Kurt snuggled tightly to Blaine’s side, absentmindedly playing with Blaine’s hair. He still smells like cold, sweaty boy, but it’s tempered by other things now, like the coffee and the sweatshirt he’s wearing that still smells like detergent.

“That sounds good,” Kurt agrees. “And two sinks. Because I need one to myself in the morning, and I don’t deal well with sharing.”

Sometimes Kurt wishes they lived together already, but there are still plenty of moments where he enjoys the autonomy they both have. It’s good for them, he thinks. It keeps their relationship fresh. Eventually they’ll live together, but there’s no rush.

“So what are we doing today?” Kurt asks after the third episode of Property Virgins. It’s just before noon, so they still have time to do something. “I mean, I’m okay with this, but a shower still sounds nice.”

“It’s s-s-sort of nice out,” Blaine tells him. “Probably about 40, maybe even 45 now and, and, and it’s sunny.”

“I take it that means you think we should go outside?”

“Yes! Maybe we, we, we should try to rush tickets to a m-m-musical or something? Or go to Coney Island?”

“Coney Island? Everything’s closed.”

“But I’ve never bb-bb-been there, and there’s something r-r-ro-ro-ro-mantic about the b-beach in the winter. And I-I-I-I think the aquarium is open.”

Kurt can’t quite argue with that logic.

They take their shower together, washing each other’s hair, but deciding against letting the whole thing get too sexy.

“We can have sexy time later,” Blaine whispers, as they stand under the cascade of warm water. Now that he’s thinking about Coney Island he really wants to get there while there’s still daylight. And if he and Kurt get too caught up in each other, they’ll never leave the apartment.

After showering, Blaine tosses on the extra set of clothes he keeps at Kurt’s place just for these purposes. He let’s Kurt blow dries his hair and Blaine can’t keep his eyes open as Kurt dances his fingers across Blaine’s scalp. He would never blow dry his own hair, doesn’t have the patience for it, but there’s something about the way Kurt does it that just feels so nice. Kurt puts a little bit of gel in it to keep it from frizzing and Blaine’s impressed with the results.

“You look awfully nice,” Kurt tells him honestly. Blaine smiles and scrunches his nose.

After that Blaine runs home to get dressed while Kurt changes and does his own hair. A half hour later, Blaine texts that he’s on his way back and Kurt meets him outside. Blaine has a tendency to look like he just stepped out of a Land’s End catalog. Today is no different, in tan corduroys, green sweater and navy peacoat. Kurt, on the other hand, went with his usually skinny jeans and his new black watch plaid coat with the oversized silver buttons.

“You’re going to regret not having a scarf,” Kurt warns, cinching his own a bit tighter to make a point. Blaine wordlessly pulls the cobalt blue cashmere scarf out of his pocket that Kurt gave him for Christmas.

“Well then. I stand corrected.”

Blaine giggles, and they link arms as they walk to the subway.

It’s two o’clock and the train ride to Coney Island takes a solid hour, but the boys are excited to be out and about. It really is an awfully nice day for February. They stand in the corner of the packed train, chatting and balancing. No one would ever believe the are transplants from Ohio with the way they never lose their balance, even as the car screeches around turns.

The train empties a bit as they leave the city, and the boys end up with seats next to each other. Kurt puts his arm up along the back of the seats, and Blaine snuggles in, watching their reflection in the window across from them. He puts his hand on Kurt’s knee and is once again struck with the realization that this actually his life.

He doesn’t like to think much about what life was like before Kurt. Or before Matt. He knows that isn’t really the healthiest way to feel about his past, but he can’t help it. He wants to focus on what he has now, not what he didn’t have then. Because thinking back to two or three years ago, it all seems a little colorless to Blaine now. All dull. He forced himself to be dull rather than letting himself feel anything. He missed out on a lot of things he thinks. But he never felt like he had any choice back then. Too much risk, too many variables. Talking to people left him vulnerable and open to their criticism, or worse, laughter.

Kurt notices Blaine’s face falling as he sits next to him. He wraps his arm tighter around Blaine’s shoulders and draws him near.

“You okay, poop?” Kurt asks.

“Yeah, I’m s-s-splendid. Just thinking about how w-w-won-won-wonderful you are,” he replies with a grin and then lays his head on Kurt’s shoulder as the train emerges from underground.

Kurt preens and kisses Blaine’s temple, not wanting to press the issue, and instead focuses his attention on the city passing outside the window.

“We should do this more often,” Blaine says as the train stops, and they prepare to exit.

“We should,” Kurt agrees.

Their first stop is the aquarium because it closes at 4:30. Blaine is entranced by the sea otters and the various fish, but when they come to the octopus, he hides behind Kurt.

“Are you scared?”

“No,” Blaine lies, with a frown.

“You really think this guy is going to hurt you? His name is Squirt, for starters, and I’m fairly sure this glass is unbreakable.” To make his point, Kurt gives a surreptitious tap to it.

“Kurt!” Blaine implores, pulling on his hand. “You can’t s-s-say stuff like that! It’s like calling the, the, the Titanic unsinkable.”

“We should watch Titanic later,” Kurt says thoughtfully.

Blaine isn’t distracted though. He still stares at the octopus, his hand squeezing Kurt’s, and peaking around his arm. “I-I-I-I don’t like him. He’s st ... s-s-staring at me.”

“I’m pretty sure he isn’t.” Kurt taps again.

“Kurt!” Blaine hisses. “He’s going to eat mmm-my face!”

“This is too much fun,” Kurt says. But time is of the essence, so he pulls Blaine away and onto the next exhibit. Blaine is relieved, to say the least.

When the aquarium closes they go out onto the boardwalk. It’s cold, freezing even, and Blaine is happy he has a scarf. It’s also nice, the sun is just beginning to dip, but still shedding some warmth. And it’s miraculously breezy, not windy the way you would expect it to be at the ocean. Just a nice breeze.

Blaine leans his face towards the sun. “You can almost imagine it’s going to, to, to b-b-b-be spring ssss-soon.”

“About a month,” Kurt says.

“The jokes on us though be-be-be-because in a month we’ll be driving to Maine to s-s-s-ski for spring br-br-break.”

“We’re idiots,” Kurt muses playfully, cuddling closer to Blaine. They’re leaning on the railing that overlooks the beach and the water. If they look far enough to the right, they’ll catch a decent sunset.

“Have you ever b-b-b-been to Cape May?”

“In New Jersey?” Kurt shakes his head.

“Yeah. We w-w-went with my grandma when I-I-I-I was 8 or 9 and they have this b-b-be-be-beach where you can watch the, uh, the sss-sunset. We should do that s-s-s-sometime. Go down and w-w-watch the sunset.”

“Next summer,” Kurt nods his head definitively.

“There’s a, a, a lot we should dah-do,” Blaine says.

“There is. We should start making a list.” Kurt presses his face into the cashmere of Blaine’s scarf, trying to warm his nose a little.

“It’s cold,” Blaine says, shivering. “We should have w-w-w-worn hats.”

Kurt nods again, but smiles.

“Wanna go?” Blaine asks.

Kurt shrugs, kisses his cheek. “A few more minutes, let’s wait for the sun to set.”

“And then w-w-w-we can get hot dogs?” Blaine’s been babbling about Nathan’s all day long and Kurt’s been telling him that of course they would go.

“That’s your romantic Valentine’s Day dinner plan?,” Kurt huffs, but Blaine can tell he’s teasing.

“I-I-I will allow you to have chili and cheese on your hot dah-dog and we’ll each, each, um, each get our own fry,” Blaine concedes.

“Fine.” But Kurt smiles. He kind of loves hot dogs and Nathan’s are famous for a reason. “So, you want to tell me about you and the octopus?”

“Can’t it just be a, a, a passing fear?” Blaine asks, cuddling deeper into Kurt’s side.

“Knowing you? There’s probably some kind of story behind it.”

“Okay, okay,” he blushes. “When I was in first grade? Second grade? I think I b-b-b-bah-locked that part out. Anyway, I-I-I went on a class trip to the aquarium. And I was left behind in the octopus exhibit and it was this weird, circular room, and I couldn’t find the exit.”

“Oh, no, poop!” Kurt exclaims, tightening his grip on Blaine’s arm.

“It was very sssss-cary. But I was very b-b-brave, and I outran that evil octopus. And mmm-my teacher was so happy that I hadn’t gotten kidnapped that she hugged me.”

“Well, yeah, she probably could have gotten fired, or like sent to prison, or something, if she lost a kid at the aquarium.”

“Nah. I don’t blame her. I b-b-b-blame that little shit Joey Decker, who was sssss-supposed to be my partner but ditched my ass the first chance he got,” Blaine says with a grin.

“I’m sorry he ditched your ass,” Kurt says.

“Not your fault,” Blaine responds.

“I will never ditch your ass, you know?” Kurt whispers.

“I know,” Blaine whispers back. “You like it too much to ever ditch it.”

Kurt laughs, and pulls Blaine in for a kiss. “Your nose is frozen,” Kurt murmurs around Blaine’s lips.

“I-I-I think it’s hot dog time,” Blaine says brightly, pulling away, and leading Kurt towards Nathan’s.

They go in to order and their faces thaw as they stand at the counter, Blaine doing a little hop step to warm his feet up.

“You could have told me you were that cold,” Kurt says.

“Nah, you w-w-were too happy. I didn’t want to ruin the mmm-mood.”

They stand at one of the high tables and eat their hot dogs and french fries, talking absolute nonsense and debating what they’re going to do with the rest of their evening. They both have class in the morning, but Kurt insists they should go watch Titanic.

“I’m just really in the mood for it now,” he whines, as they walk back to train.

Blaine relents easily and the fall into seats on the subway car.

Blaine looks forward to a nice, warm, long cuddle on the couch with Kurt. He couldn’t imagine a better end to a perfect Valentine’s Day.

~~~~~

Later on that night, the boys are curled together in Kurt’s bed, sated and sleepy.

“Do you think w-w-we’ll have this much ssss-sex after you graduate?” Blaine yawns..

“What does one thing have to do with the other?” Kurt responds.

“I dah-don’t know. Just that you’ll have to, to, to get up for work everyday and you’ll be like, like an angry b-b-b-businessman, instead of a fun loving college stuh-stuh-student.”

Kurt laughs and kisses the top of Blaine’s head.

“We’ll always have this much sex,” he promises. And then he has another thought, something he’s been rolling around in his head all day, not quite sure how to bring it up. Though now is as good a time as any.

“Hey Blaine,” he says.

Blaine hums in acknowledgment. He’s close to sleeping, but he’s fighting it, enjoying the sensation of Kurt’s chest vibrating beneath him as they talk.

“I’m not necessarily asking right this second, but do you see us moving in together sometime in the future? Maybe not the near future. And I really don’t want to pressure you. But I figured, you should know that I’m game for it. Sometime. In the future. Someday.” Kurt’s rambling, he knows it, but he can’t quite stop himself.

Blaine’s rolls a bit and props his head up with his elbow.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” Blaine isn’t surprised, per se. He’s happy that Kurt’s thinking like this. “I-I-I have to be, to be, be honest. I sort of assumed that I would be dah-done with college when w-w-w-we mmm-moved in together. Mostly because my parents pay my rent now, and I-I-I don’t know. I feel like when I-I-I-I live w-w-w-with you, I want to pay m-m-my own way? Like I want us to, to, to b-b-be equals. Or ss-ss-something.” Blaine searches Kurt’s face. “Are you mmm-mad?”

Kurt’s hand moves to caress Blaine’s cheek. “Of course not. I like that. I think it makes a lot of sense.”

Blaine smiles and leans his head back onto Kurt’s chest, and Kurt’s pets the hair at the back of his neck.

“You know I could never be mad at you for being honest, right?”

Blaine nods and kisses the spot right above Kurt’s heart.

They sleep soundly that night, wrapped together in Kurt’s warm bed.


	9. Chapter 9

March 9th  
@ 7:58 pm  
Blaine: Does the place we’re staying have an indoor pool?

8:00 pm  
Matt: Why are you texting me from your bedroom?

8:03 pm  
Blaine: What? I’m at Kurt’s.

8:04 pm  
Matt: I just had a conversation with you!

8:06 pm  
Blaine: I haven’t seen you in 7 hours!

8:08 pm  
Matt: who the fuck did I just have a conversation with???

8:11 pm  
Blaine: I’m going to say ... yourself.  
Blaine: you had a conversation with yourself.

8:13 pm  
Matt: you’re really not in your room?

8:14 pm  
Blaine: I’m really not in my room.

8:15 pm  
Matt: shit man, I’m losing my mind.

10:47 pm  
Blaine: You never answered my question.

10:50 pm  
Matt: Oh yeah. It has an indoor pool.

~~~~~

March 10th  
@ 4:14 pm  
Tina: What time are we leaving on Saturday?

4:16 pm  
Rachel: I think around 11.

4:17 pm  
Tina: So I should be your apartment by 2.

4:18 pm  
Rachel: No, 11.

4:20 pm  
Tina: You have never once been ready to leave for anything less than 3 hours late.

4:21 pm  
Rachel: Kurt has made some threats. I’ll be ready at 11.

4:23 pm  
Tina: well that’s ominous.

4:24 pm  
Rachel: For your own safety, we shall speak of this no more.

~~~~~

March 10th  
@ 7:01 pm  
Julia: Does this place have a pool?

7:04 pm  
Kurt: I don’t think so.

~~~~~

March 10th  
@ 7:07pm  
Kurt: Does this place have a pool?

7:10 pm  
Blaine: You never listen to me do you?

7:11 pm  
Kurt: What? WTF? Are we fighting and I didn’t know it?

7:12 pm  
Blaine: That was a joke Kurt.  
Blaine: I just meant that I told you yesterday that it does.

7:14 pm  
Kurt: Oh. Sorry.

7:15 pm  
Blaine: yeah. You better be.

7:16 pm  
Kurt: you’re like the opposite of threatening.

7:18 pm  
Blaine: I know, I know.

~~~~~

March 11th  
@ 10:37 am  
Julia: Are you bringing *nice* clothes?

10:44 am  
Kerry: Hmm. I hadn’t thought about it.  
Kerry: it’s going to be cold, so *nice* clothes would be like my finest turtleneck.  
Kerry: I shall bring my finest turtleneck!

10:47 am  
Julia: I SHALL BRING MY WARMEST SPARKLY CARDIGAN.

10:50 am  
Kerry: Jealous of your sparkly cardigan.

~~~~~

March 11th  
@ 11:01 am  
Kerry: Julia’s bringing a sparkly cardigan.

11:03 am  
Tina: Good to know.  
Tina: Thank you the intel.  
Tina: Berry’s bringing some kind of sweater involving faux fur.

11:06 am  
Kerry: Interesting apre-ski wear.  
Kerry: I myself am bringing my finest turtleneck.

11:08 am  
Tina: I like how you think.

~~~~~

March 11th  
@11:52 pm  
Puck: How many pairs of underwear are you bringing?

11:57 pm  
Kurt: I don’t even know how to answer that.

11:58 pm  
Puck: Just give me a fucking number.

11:59 pm  
Kurt: no.

~~~~~

“I’m still not sure who gave you permission to grow a beard,” Kurt tells Blaine as they sit on his couch Saturday morning, waiting for the rest of the group to assemble.

“It’s not really a b-b-b-beard. Just some … scruff. Light scruff. Stubble really.”

“You can try to rationalize this as much as you want, but that looks pretty beard-ish to me,” Kurt says.

“You’re not the boss of my face,” Blaine pouts.

“Oh, look at that pout. Too bad I can’t kiss it better.” Kurt shrugs.

Blaine narrows his eyes at him.

“We’re going s-s-skiing Kurt, my face could use the, the, the added warmth. Please note that Matt and Puck also have at least a w-w-week or two worth of scruff. Don’t you w-w-want my face to be warm? I thought you loved me,” Blaine whines.

Kurt hmphs.

“You’re just upset that you can’t grow mmmm-more than that little wisp.”

Kurt gives him a death stare.

“I love that little w-w-wisp,” Blaine quickly adds, putting his hands up in surrender. “Please don’t kill me.” He looks at him innocently through his eyelashes.

“I’m going to karate chop your face.”

Blaine rolls his eyes and then rubs his cheek on Kurt’s, who yelps in pain. “Ow!” Then Kurt feigns a karate chop in retaliation.

The boys are giggling when the door swings open and Tina peeks her head in. “Are you guys coming?”

They look over at her, and she gestures out the door.

“We were waiting for you guys,” Kurt says confusedly.

“And we’re all waiting for you guys downstairs,” she explains. “Julia and Puck are double parked, and we’re loading our stuff.”

The boys hop off the couch, shocked that they were so out of the loop and head downstairs, bags in tow.

~~~~~

Upon arriving at the condo, they’re impressed with how clean and updated it is, considering that they’re not paying that much for it per night. But it’s apparently not meant for couples. There’s a master bedroom, with a king size bed, a larger dorm style bedroom under the eaves with two sets of bunk beds and a smaller bedroom with one set of bunk beds.

Blaine seems unconcerned as he claims one of the top bunks in the loft room.

“So you’re not going to get involved in the rock, paper, scissor stand off for the master bedroom?” Kurt inquires, giving him the eye.

Blaine shrugs. “I love you. But I really love b-b-b-bunk beh-beds. We s-s-s-sleep together all the time.”

“Why do you love bunk beds?” Kurt asks, not quite being able to stop himself from smiling.

“Well,” Blaine starts and then chews at his lip. He flips to his side and leans on his elbow. “I never needed a set as a kid, even though I r-r-r-really wanted some, buh-buh-ut one of my cousin’s had them, and I liked sleeping on the top buh-bunk. It’s like, a, a, a cocoon up here so close to the ceiling. Safe or s-s-s-something.”

Kurt walks over to the bunk bed from his place by the door, and tosses his bags on the lower one. He leans his face up as Blaine leans his down, and they kiss.

“I hope you have a lovely time in your cocoon,” Kurt says warmly. “I’ll be down here if you need me.”

They get pizza delivered from the lodge that night, and everyone spends most of the evening lounging around the living room, watching a movie. They go to sleep early, wanting to get first tracks. Well Matt and Blaine want to get first tracks, no one else seems quite so invested.

Kurt and Blaine end up sharing the loft room with Matt and Kerry, because Puck won rock, paper, scissors.

The next day everyone is up and ready to go. They all need to rent skis and get their lift tickets. Kurt’s never skied before, so he spends his first day on the mountain taking a beginner’s lesson with Kerry and Rachel.

Blaine, Matt, Julia, Tina, and Puck all have at least some experience and take off to various trails, with Blaine and Matt heading to the summit.

Everyone enjoys the day. It’s sunny, so the snow is soft, even for the beginners as they fall again and again. Kurt’s in a fairly good mood, even though he fell about a dozen times. And he’s gotten a lot better at getting his skis back on when they pop off. He hates to admit that he let them ski away from him the first few times because he didn’t realize he could turn them parallel to the slope to keep them in place.

Later that night, back at the ski condo, they make the world’s largest pot of bow tie pasta. Kurt got it in his head before they left that they need to drink a lot of hot buttered rums while away, he figured it was really one of the only acceptable alcoholic beverages for skiing. So they drink hot buttered rum and eat pasta, and the night ends with bow ties stuck to the ceiling of the living room.

On the second day of skiing, Kurt stays on the bunny slope with Rachel and Kerry. Matt joins them for a bit, having decided he wants to try snowboarding. However, because he’s Matt, he quickly masters the snowboard and joins Blaine and everyone else higher on the trails.

That night they decide to go out for dinner and hit up the bar. They drink and dance and thoroughly enjoy the U2 cover band. Before going to sleep that night, Blaine promises to ski with Kurt the next day, telling him he found a really gentle green trail that starts about halfway up and Kurt’s going to thoroughly enjoy the views.

It takes a lot of cajoling on Blaine’s part to even get him on the ski lift.

“I prefer the magic carpet on the bunny slope,” Kurt insists as they make their way to the lift.

“Dumdum,” Blaine pleads. “It’s r-r-really not that high, and it’s d-d-def-definitely safer than a ferris wheel.”

“Why would you bring up ferris wheels at a time like this?” Kurt demands.

Blaine stops and turns to Kurt, looking at him kindly. “Calm down,” he soothes, he tugs on one of the ear flaps of Kurt’s (adorable and stylish) hat. “It’s not a b-b-big deal. I’ll protect you, like I-I-I always do.”

Kurt smiles and gives Blaine’s hand a squeeze through their thick ski gloves.

The base area is fairly quiet on a Tuesday morning, so it’s their turn on the lift quickly. Blaine helps Kurt get into place and when the chair comes behind them, Kurt is expecting it and everything goes smoothly. Blaine pulls the bar down because he knows Kurt will feel more comfortable that way. They head up the mountain, and Kurt scooches over towards Blaine and Blaine wraps his arm around him.

“I can’t help but notice how this swings,” Kurt says nervously, and then purses his lips.

“Kurt, we’re fine. Thousands of people r-r-ride ski lifts everyday. How often do, do, do, do you hear about ski lift d-d-deaths?”

“Never. But that could be a conspiracy.” The chair stops for a moment, and Kurt bolts up, looking around. And then glares at Blaine.

“What?” he asks innocently. “Someone probably just dah-drah-dropped a pole.”

Blaine pulls Kurt back tighter and kisses his cheek. “Look at how nice it is! It’s gorgeous up here. The air is fresh and the birds are chirping...”

Kurt raises an unimpressed eyebrow but does relax into Blaine’s embrace. Even leaning his head on his chest. He contentedly swings his skis a tiny bit, making the whole chair shake, and he cries out.

“Kurt. Seriously. We’re very, very s-s-safe.”

Kurt inhales and nods, willing himself to calm down.

“So you really enjoy this activity?” Kurt asks loftily.

“I do. I like s-s-skiing. I-I-I don’t get to do it nearly enough,” Blaine responds.

“I suppose we could do it more often. I’m getting better, I think you’ll be fairly impressed.”

“I’m sure I-I-I will be,” Blaine agrees. “You’re graceful, I, I, I can’t imagine you’re not graceful on, on, on skis.”

Kurt smiles at the praise and compliment. The lift starts moving soon after that, and the boys disembark, Blaine skiing to the left and Kurt losing his footing a bit, skiing straight and then falling over. Blaine shakes his head and tries to hide his smile.

Kurt stands and dusts himself off. “Don’t you dare say anything.”

Blaine makes a “lip zipping” motion, and they glide to the beginning of the slope.

“You r-r-ready for this?” Blaine asks.

Kurt nods, yanking off his gloves, and pulls out his cell phone. “I’m going to get a picture, for posterity. In case this is too hard, and I never make it up this high again.” Kurt takes one of the vista and then one of he and Blaine together, smiling, cheeks pressed together.

He shows Blaine the picture. “We are just too adorable,” Blaine says.

Kurt puts away his phone, deep in a pocket where he hopefully won’t fall on it. He puts his gloves on and adjusts his sunglasses, while Blaine pulls his ski goggles down.

“Let’s do this, poop,” Kurt says. “Before I lose my nerve.”

“Okay, here’s the plan. I’ll ski dah-down to that tree,” Blaine says, pointing to an evergreen about 100 yards away. “I’ll turn b-b-b-back and wait for you there. Then we’ll dah-dah-do the same til we’re down the trail and it w-w-w-won’t feel like such a long way.”

Kurt nods.

“Just re-re-re-remember, french fries, pizza slice.”

Kurt grins at Blaine quoting the ski instructor Kurt told him about from the first day.

Blaine skis down, modeling his finest stance, hoping that will help Kurt. When he gets to the tree, he turns and gestures for Kurt to follow. He watches, impressed with Kurt’s control, as he swooshes down, making big arcs in the snow, but remaining upright and, not surprisingly, very graceful. Kurt meets up with him, and Blaine laughs.

“That w-w-was really impressive,” Blaine says.

“Yeah, right,” Kurt says, blushing from the wind and Blaine’s words, preening a little.

“Ready to do that again?”

“Of course.”

“I’m going to go a, a, a, little farther this time, dah-down to that pole.”

“Perfect,” Kurt says.

Blaine sets off, this time a bit faster, carving more, showing Kurt more style. He gets to the pole, skidding with a flourish, and pulls off his goggles and gloves. He’s starting to sweat now and his goggles were getting foggy.

Again he watches Kurt come down the slope, picking up a little more speed this time, moving on the diagonal, already using his “pizza slice” less. Blaine can’t believe how quickly Kurt picked this sport up. For someone who claims he isn’t athletic...

Blaine is thinking all this when he hears laughter from above and sees Matt and Julia waving down at him from the lift. He waves up as they pass, missing the moment that Kurt skids across a small patch of ice about 10 feet from him. Kurt flails for the last few seconds, colliding into an unsuspecting Blaine and punching him square in the eye with the top of ski pole.

They both sprawl across the snow, skis and goggles, gloves and hats and poles and boys, flying through the air.

Blaine fell at an awkward angle, with his head facing down the slope. He opens his eyes and the glare of the sun stings them. He squeezes them shut and tries to find purchase in the snow to spin himself around. Kurt sits up a few feet away and scrambles over to Blaine.

“Oh my god!” Kurt exclaims. “I’m so sorry!”

Blaine groans, and he sits up, bringing a hand to face. At least he’s not bleeding.

“Are you okay?” Kurt’s hovering over him now, not quite sure where to touch, worried that he should be calling the ski patrol or something.

“Yeah,” Blaine says, as he rolls his shoulders. “I, I, I, I think I’m okay. My eye hurts like a b-b-bitch.” He looks at Kurt then, and Kurt can see the redness already setting in around Blaine’s left eye. Blaine has it squeezed shut, and Kurt brings his thumb gently to Blaine’s cheek.

“Can you open it?” Kurt asks cautiously, terrified that he poked Blaine’s eye out or something.

Blaine winces and opens his eye, blinking harshly, tears spilling over. In the brief glimpse that Kurt sees, he’s relieved to note that Blaine’s eye is there and does not appear to be injured in any way.

“It looks okay,” Kurt tells him, sighing.

Blaine nods. “It hurts like, like, like hell, buh-buh-ut I can s-s-see out of it.”

They stay like that for a minute, sitting next to each other in snow, Kurt’s hand on Blaine’s shoulder. Kurt scoops some snow and makes a snowball for Blaine to hold to his eye. Matt and Julia ski down to them moments later, bringing with them anything of Kurt’s or Blaine’s that landed higher on the slope.

“Hey,” Matt says. “That was quite the yard sale.”

Blaine chuckles, Kurt continues to stare at Blaine like he might start bleeding from the eyes at any moment.

“You okay?” Julia asks him.

“Yeah,” Blaine assures her. He doesn’t talk much to Julia, not because he doesn’t like her, but she still has “Kurt’s friend” status. If he’s being honest, he still gets a little nervous around her sometimes. She’s never given him any reason to believe that she wouldn’t be entirely patient or kind, but he’s still warming up to her. He wishes briefly that it was Tina or Kerry with Matt instead. He knows his speech is a mess right now because he’s emotional.

“You’re gonna have quite the shiner,” Matt tells Blaine. “It’ll look tough.”

Blaine nods. That works for him.

“It’ll look like I beat you up,” Kurt wails out of nowhere, the guilt getting the better of him.

“I’m r-r-r-really okay, Kurt, I-I-I-I swear.” Blaine tries to exemplify how okay he is by opening his eye, just to have his cheek twitch and the lid to snap shut, but not before several more tears leak out of it.

“Do you think you need to go to the hospital?” Julia asks, concerned. She doesn’t know much, but it seems wrong that Blaine can’t keep his eye open. She’s been working at a sleepaway camp every summer for the past five years, and she has quite a bit of experience with all different kinds of injuries.

“No,” Blaine says, ducking his head, embarrassed, starting to feel conspicuous because of all the attention. “I-I-I-I think I’m fine.”

Kurt goes to collect one of his skis from the side of the trail, while Matt collects one of Blaine’s skis from a little below them, and Julia kneels down next to Blaine.

“You’re sure you’re okay? You don’t have to put on a brave face for Kurt,” she says with a smile.

Blaine nods and opens his eye again, blinking a bit, but able to keep it open a slit now.

“Do you think it got scratched? Did Kurt take a look at it?”

Blaine shrugs and takes a deep breath, turning his head towards Julia.

“I didn’t want to make Kurt feel bad,” he whispers.

She nods and takes off her gloves. “I’m just going to try to look at it and make sure it’s not scratched.”

Blaine nods, as Julia puts gentle hands on his face, slowly pries up his lid. “Can you move your eye around?”

He doesn’t answer her, but he rolls his eye in various directions.

“Good.” She tells him about her summers at camp and how the first time they made her take an intense first aid course she couldn’t understand why, until one of the kids took an arrow to the hand during archery the first week and everything became very obvious.

He’d been holding his breath, and it comes out in a quiet puff on Julia’s hand when he chuckles appreciatively. She knows that Blaine’s a little nervous around people, that this probably actually takes some trust on his part, letting her touch him like this. They haven’t become friends as quickly as she’d hoped, but Kerry and DiDi (and even Tina and Rachel) assure her that it’s just the way it is with Blaine.

Kurt and Matt have come back, and Julia sits back on her heels.

“It looks okay. Not even really irritated or anything. It’s probably just the lid. And like Matt so helpfully pointed out, you’ll have a decent shiner.” She glances at Matt to smile, only to be surprised to find him already smiling at her.

She looks away quickly. “You think you can ski down?” she asks Blaine.

“Yeah,” he says, starting to stand. Kurt puts his hand out and Blaine accepts it, feeling a bit shaken up, but really okay in the scheme of things.

“Here, take my sunglasses,” Kurt says, thrusting the item at Blaine, who accepts them because putting his ski goggles back on sounds painful, and the sun is really very bright bouncing off the snow.

“Thanks,” he lifts his lips to give Kurt a quick kiss. “I really am fine Kurt, I swear.”

Kurt nods and sighs in relief. “Let’s go back to the condo, and we’ll ice your face and drink a hot buttered rum.”

“Sounds like a, a, a plan to mmmm-me,” Blaine agrees.

~~~~~

A Moment of Kurt

How is he always so calm? I almost just took his eye out (okay, slight exaggeration), but he remains so very Blaine, that his main emotion about the whole incident seems to be embarrassment.

I’ve seen him have so many different emotions- frustration, sadness, fear, joy, appreciation, the list could go on for pages. But I’ve never seen him angry. Not really.

When I think about the big moments, the moments where his emotions were at their very peak, I still can never find anger. Like when we had our fight last year on the phone, he mostly just seemed disappointed, and afraid. Or when that guy and his daughter were mean to him, he was frustrated and sad.

The situations that would usually elicit anger, or at least a shade of anger, seem to go in different directions for Blaine. If he wanted to be angry at me for hitting him, that would make sense to me. But his continued calm, and rationality, and vague embarrassment about the whole incident just makes me wonder. What makes Blaine angry? Capital “A” angry.

It seems like something I should know. Not so that I can avoid it, but so that I know when to look for it, when to be there, when to back off.

I should ask him. After we ice his face maybe.

~~~~~

Later that night, while regaling everyone with the story of Kurt beating Blaine up, and Matt and Julia rescuing them, Kurt sits on Blaine’s lap with a baggy full of snow pressed gently to his eye. It’s swelling and turning weird colors, but he says he can see fine, and it only hurts when he thinks about it.

Everyone else starts a game of Trivial Pursuit, but Blaine says his head hurts too much to really think like that tonight. (Everyone breathes a quick sigh of relief, because Blaine is the reigning and undisputed Trivial Pursuit champion.) Kurt sits with him on the couch and pets his hair.

“I’m so sorry, poop,” he says sincerely. “I really didn’t mean to hit you. I lost control for like a second.” Kurt pouts and Blaine kisses his bottom lip.

“I know, I know,” Blaine breathes, bringing his mouth to Kurt’s ear. “Maybe you could mmm-mmm-make me a hot buttered rum?”

“Anything, anything you want.” Blaine makes a devilish face, thinking of all the things he can get from Kurt out of this deal.

“A hot b-b-buttered rum for nah-now. Maybe a foot r-r-rub later?” he suggests.

“Sure,” Kurt says with a smile. He leans to kiss Blaine’s ice cold eye. “I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”

Blaine smiles, shaking his head, searching Kurt’s eyes. “It’s an accident, how, how, how could I-I-I actually be angry at you?”

Kurt shrugs, squeezing Blaine a little tighter, before extracting himself from Blaine’s lap and going to prepare his drink.

~~~~~

Several days after they return from Maine, Kurt and Blaine curl up together in Blaine’s bed. Kurt’s gentle fingers ghost over Blaine’s black eye, which after nearly a week of healing is still a bright shade of purple. Blaine’s eyelashes sweep his cheek, and Kurt kisses the lid gently.

“I really am very sorry,” Kurt says for the hundredth time.

“And it’s really not that b-b-big of a deal,” Blaine answers. “You didn’t do it on purpose. It’s not like you did permanent d-d-d-damage, or something.”

Kurt searches Blaine’s eyes. “Don’t you ever get angry?” Kurt asks.

Blaine bites his lip, and searches for Kurt’s hand under the covers.

“Um,” Blaine hesitates, thinking. “Not r-r-r-really. Not very often. Why?”

“I’ve never seen you angry, I guess. I just keep waiting for it.”

“You d-d-don’t really get angry either,” Blaine says, thoughtfully.

“Of course I do. All the time. I get pissed off at bad drivers, and people who are mean to you, people who are mean to other people in general, taxi stealers, idiots at work, morons in general. The list goes on and on. I could get angry just thinking about it right now.”

Blaine moves closer to Kurt, and rubs his arm. “Don’t be angry,” Blaine says.

“Something must make you angry.”

“I guess, um. My dad has the, has the, has the … capacity to make me angry. Or, or, or he used to, at least. He hasn’t really pissed me off in a long time. People, adults, b-b-b-being mean to kids makes me angry. But I feel like, if I-I-I-I let myself think about it too hard, it could s-s-swallow me whole.”

“You’re allowed to be angry,” Kurt says, brushing his cheek again.

Blaine smiles. “I’m allowed not to b-b-b-be angry, too.”

“You are,” Kurt agrees. “Just, if you’re going to get angry, let me know?”

“Are you w-w-w-worried that I’m going to get mmm-mad at you?” Blaine asks, pieces clicking together. “Like sssss-someday my inner Hulk is going to be unleashed?”

Kurt shrugs the best he can, on his side, under blankets. “It’s this weird thing that I’m waiting for. Hanging over my head. At some point you’re going to get impatient, or frustrated, or so disappointed in me, that it turns into anger.”

Blaine makes a shocked face.

“Wow. I … I have no idea what to s-s-s-say. I don’t really see that happening.”

“I think if you ever yelled at me, like really yelled, I wouldn’t know what to do,” Kurt admits, unable to meet Blaine’s eyes.

And suddenly even being under the covers, so close to each other, doesn’t feel close enough. Blaine wants to envelop Kurt, to comfort him, to say just the right words, and make just the right gesture to make Kurt feel better.

“Oh my god. I, I, I, I’m s-s-speechless.” Blaine opens his arms for Kurt, and pulls him as close as he possibly can, kissing his temple. “I can’t ever imagine yelling at you, not like that. But you know if I-I-I did it would be b-b-because I was w-w-w-worried about you, or, or, or, or you were …”

Blaine shakes his head and drops his voice to a whisper. “I don’t even know, I’m having trouble coming up with a scenario. It would probably be because I love you so darn much, dumdum.”

“Hey,” Kurt says, wrinkling his nose, and pulling back a bit to look at Blaine. “That’s my line.”

“I know, but it w-w-w-works b-both ways,” Blaine pauses. “I mean, I-I-I can’t promise that we’re never going to fight. Or that I’ll never get angry at you. But it’s not really ssss-something you should actively worry about.”

Kurt hums, and then he rolls over, dragging Blaine’s arm around him. “I’m going to need you to be the big spoon tonight.”

Blaine conforms his body to Kurt’s back, kissing his neck, and whispers, “I’ll let you know if I ever get that mad at you, though I don’t really see it happening. You’re a little too wonderful, and a little too ineffable, and I love you a little too much.”

Kurt takes Blaine’s hand and writes “O-K” across his palm, and seals it with a kiss.


	10. Chapter 10

April 7th  
@ 8:04 pm  
A skype conversation between Blaine and his mom

Hey bud!

Hi mom.

I’m happy to see your eye looking so much better.

[Blaine reaches up to touch his eye, which is pretty much completely healed at this point, aside from a very faded line where the the ski pole made initial impact.] Yeah. I-I-I told you at Easter that it, it, it felt fine after the first couple of d-d-d-days.

I know. I just like to worry.

You do! You’re, um, addicted to it. [Blaine grins.]

[His mom grins back.] So, how’s everything going? How are classes?

Perfectly perfect. I b-b-b-bay-basically sailed through mmmm-my mid-mid-midterms.

That’s my boy.

[Blaine nods.]

School’s always been one of those things that just came easy for you.

Even when I-I-I-I-I was a b-b-b-big troublemaker who refused to ss-spah-speak?

[His mom rolls her eyes.] Even then. It’s nice now though, that you’re willing to talk.

[Blaine ducks his head.] It is. Makes mmmm-my life easier.

Mine too.

But it’s one less thing to w-w-w-wworry about! Look at, at, at all the time it’s freed up in your life! You could take up a new hobby with how mmmm-much less time you have to sp-sp-spend worrying about my s-s-s-spah-spah-eech.

[She laughs. More than ever appreciating Blaine’s sense of humor, his ability not to take himself too seriously. He’s grown into a wonderful man in the past few years.] So, what else, bud?

I-I-I had a presentation in sssss-sign language yesterday.

Oh yeah?

Yeah. It um, it went rr-rr-really well. Like, like, shockingly well. [He lowers his eyes and takes a deep breath.]

That’s good. [She smiles, wanting him to continue. She'd promised herself recently to prod him less and let him open up on his own more. It’s been working really well. He shares more when he’s not under pressure to share. She may have gotten this idea from Paula when she ran into her while grocery shopping.]

I-I-I think, for the first time in m-m-m-my life, I wasn’t terrified in front of a, of a, of a, um, group of people. And I know that’s mmm-mostly be-because I didn’t have to talk, just sign, buh-buh-ut like, I didn’t even mmm-mind that, that that they could ssss-see me.

[She nods when Blaine looks at the screen.]

I know, um, I-I-I-I know that’s wah-wah-weird. That I don’t like people to, to, to look at mm-me, b-b-ut ... [He shrugs, not entirely sure why he’s telling his mom so much.]

It’s not weird for you, Blaine. Don’t feel weird about it, it’s how you are. You’re allowed to feel uncomfortable. It’s better if you can admit what makes you uncomfortable.

[Blaine nods and blinks, inhaling sharply.] I, I, I guess. Um. Anyway. It went r-r-really well. It w-w-was good. It … helped.

[She wants to ask a hundred questions, why did it help? Has he been having trouble? Is his anxiety getting to be too much? Does he want to go back to speech? Does he think he should start seeing a regular therapist? Instead she keeps her face neutral, hoping that he’ll continue.]

It helped mmm-me realize that mm-may-maybe I’ll b-b-be able to get up in front of a classroom everyday to, to, to teach.

[She wishes she could stop the tears that spring to her eyes, she blinks them away.] That’s so good, Blaine. I’m so proud of you.

[He rubs the back of his neck nervously, the praise making his heart swell.] Thanks.

You’re welcome. It’s the truth.

Um. [He racks his brain for a new topic.] Katinka emailed mm-me. [He wanted to keep talking about serious things, important things, but his emotions were starting to get the better of him, so he decided to change the subject. They’ll come back to that topic someday.]

Katinka? [His change of subject was a bit abrupt, but she thinks she understands.]

Yes. She w-w-w-wanted to know what I-I-I thought Cooper mm-might want for his b-b-b-bir-birthday. I think her English is getting a, a, a lot beh-better.

It definitely is. She’s working hard. They’re coming over for dinner this weekend. She’s making something. Fried bread? With onions. There’s a Serbian word for it, but it escapes me at the moment.

Sounds … interesting. How’s dah-dah-dad feel, uh, um, about that?

He’s fine about that. He’s been … a complete different man recently, Blaine. We’ve been married for 34 years and I’ve never seen him like this. So relaxed, so satisfied.

[Blaine nods. He has noticed.] It’s good.

It is. [Now it’s her turn to change the subject.] How’s your fella? [She can ask broad questions, she tells herself. And questions about other people. She just avoids asking Blaine direct questions about topics he would normally avoid. Those are the topics she tries not to pressure him into talking about. But she knows, no matter what, he loves talking about Kurt.]

[Blaine’s face breaks in a huge grin.] He’s the, the, the b-b-b-best fella a guy could ask for.

How’s he feeling about graduation?

You know, I-I-I think okay. They offered him an, an, an editorial assistant p-p-pos-position at Teen Vogue.

Oh! That’s fantastic!

He’s going to, to, to take it, of course. Even if he keeps looking around. I-I-I mean, it’s too good to pp-pp-pass up.

Of course. Wonderful. Tell him I said congratulations.

I-I-I think actually, you’ll get to tell him yourself, if, if, if you w-w-want. Buh-urt’s going to b-be calling you about Kurt’s graduation party. They’re having it Mmmmm-memorial Day w-w-weekend?

Does that mean you’ll be home for Memorial Day, which just so happens to be on your birthday this year?

Yes. I-I-I-I think I’ll be, be, be home for a w-w-week. You may b-b-b-bake me a cake.

I’ll make Grandma’s chicken.

YES! [Blaine fist pump.]

[She does a little shimmy in her seat.]

That’s quite the, the, the chair d-dah-dance, Mom.

Thank you, Blaine. [She hears a door slam and Blaine’s head turns. She hears muttered words in the background and assumes it’s Matt. Blaine starts to smile and then his smile falls as he nods at the person off screen. He turns back to her.]

S, s-s-orry about that. Matt just, just, um, got home.

Is he okay?

I don’t know. [Blaine looks towards the direction of the door again.] He s-s-seems upset. He w-w-was out with Kerry.

Oh.

I think, mmmm-maybe, there’s news. About the, the, the Peace Corps.

Go ahead, bud. Go talk to Matt. He probably could use a friend.

Okay. I’ll talk to you next wah-wah-week?

Of course. Same time, same place. [She waves.]

[Blaine waves back.] Love you, mom.

Love you too, bud. [She winks and disappears.]

~~~~~~

Blaine wanders in the kitchen and finds Matt agitatedly spinning in circles while holding a beer, obviously searching for a bottle opener. He stops when he sees Blaine.

“Sorry, I forgot you were skyping,” Matt mutters.

“Not a, um, a problem.” Blaine grabs the beer and twists the top off, using the edge of t-shirt.

“Oh, duh. Thanks,” Matt says sheepishly, before taking a long swig.

Blaine grabs a beer for himself, twisting the top off and tosses both tops in the sink. He hops up on the counter.

“So … “ Blaine prompts.

Matt clenches his jaw and flares his nostrils. “She’s going. She sent in her confirmation. She’s going to Ecuador for 26 months.”

Blaine knew it was coming, in his head, but he thinks maybe his heart didn’t believe it, because right now it bottoms out along with his stomach.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” Blaine says, feeling lame, knowing it’s not enough.

“Not your fault,” Matt replies, pacing their tiny kitchen.

“What do, do, um, do you w-want to do?” Blaine asks.

Matt stops and looks at him, considering. “Are you busy tonight?”

“No. I-I-I just had my mmm-mom date. Buh-buh-ut I don’t even r-really have any homework or anything.”

Matt nods his head. “I don’t really care what we do. I just feel like … I need to do something.”

“I-I-I get it. Wanna go out?”

Matt shrugs. “We’re breaking up.”

“Like, nah-now? Like today?”

“Might as well. I mean. She’s leaving in June. Why stay together?”

“I, I, um, I don’t know. It’s two mm-months. You’re bah-bound to r-r-run into each other. Not like you could avoid her. You could still have fun together for two mm-months.”

“Sexy fun,” Matt agrees, chugging the rest of his beer and opening another.

“Sexy fun and, and, and other fun. Did she s-s-say she wants to b-b-break up?”

“No, of course not. But, didn’t she say something to you about it...” Matt trails off.

Blaine shrugs. “Not exactly. Just that it, it, um, it could lead to a b-b-breakup, I-I-I think is what she said. That w-w-was like mmm-months and months ago, Matt.” Blaine sighs. “I feel like a, a, a dick for telling you that nah-now.”

“You’re not a dick. I am though.”

“You’re nah-not a dick.”

“I kind of feel like a dick. And like we’re just going to be dicking each other around for two months if we stay together.”

“Seriously? You guys have b-b-b-been together for what, like a, a, a year and half? And you think adding two uninterrupted m-m-months to that would be, be, be dicking around?”

“When you put it like that, you just make me sound like a douche.”

Blaine rolls his eyes.

“I guess,” Matt starts, sucking in a deep breath. “I guess it feels so inevitable, you know? Maybe if I could get the pain over with now, it would be better later? I won’t miss her so much?”

“Your logic isn’t terrible, b-b-but you can’t control your emotions like that. You’re gonna mmm-miss her either way.”

“Fuck. I know. Fuck.”

Matt keeps pacing, drinking his beer. Rubs at his eyes.

“Want mm-me to text Puck?” Blaine offers. “We could go play b-b-b-beer pong at, at, at his place?”

“Yeah, let’s see what he’s up to.”

~~~~~

9:12 pm  
Blaine: Hey man, you around?

9:15 pm  
Puck: Yeah, what’s up. I’m at home.

9:16 pm  
Blaine: Awesome. Matt’s bummed, wants to play beer pong.

9:18 pm  
Puck: excellent.  
Puck: Berry’s gonna kill me, but Matt needs to play right?

9:20 pm  
Blaine: well, I mean...  
Blaine: yes. Matt needs to play. He’s thinking about breaking up with Kerry.

9:23 pm  
Puck: Awesome. Boy’s night. Just you guys?

9:25 pm  
Blaine: I’m going to text Kurt, but he never wants to play beer pong.

9:26 pm  
Puck: Cool, whatev. Just let me cancel on Rach before you text Kurt.

9:27 pm  
Blaine: waiting for your signal.

9:39 pm  
Puck: Go ahead.

~~~~~

9:41 pm  
Blaine: Going to Puck’s to cheer Matt up with beer pong.

9:44 pm  
Kurt: you can hold it right there mister. Don’t even bother asking me.  
Kurt: I sadly have to stay here and console an inconsolable Rachel.  
Kurt: Because Puck canceled on her for the boys.

9:47 pm  
Blaine: sadness :(  
Blaine: Did they have big plans?

9:50 pm  
Kurt: they barely had little plans. I just hate beer pong.  
Kurt: And appreciate having an excuse.

9:52 pm  
Blaine: HA. Love you dumdum.

9:53 pm  
Kurt: Love you too, poop.

~~~~~

April 8th  
@ 12:33 am  
Blaine: You know what I love?

12:47 am  
Kurt: Me, chicken, your mom, longs walks on the beach, Mexican food, playing the Sims, kids, reading, HGTV, skiing, your friends, 5 syllable words, running, playing the piano, playing the guitar, manicures, blow jobs... do I have to go on?

12:52 am  
Blaine: Um. Wow. That was rhetorical.  
Blaine: But yes, I do love all of those things.  
Blaine: The actual answer was folded over potato chips.

12:54 am  
Kurt: so you’re drunk?

12:55 am  
Blaine: quite.  
Blaine: Did I wake you up.

12:58 am  
Kurt: Nah, Rachel and I just finished Sleepless in Seattle.

1:02 am  
Blaine: Horses horses horses horses horses?

1:04 am  
Kurt: You must really be drunk. You never mess up punctuation.

1:08 am  
Blaine: /\’”.


	11. Chapter 11

Several days before Kurt’s graduation, Blaine meets up with Chad for a beer. They try to get together a couple times a month and so far, they’ve kept it up.

The first couple of times were awkward, Blaine not sure what he should be sharing, Chad not sure what he should be asking, both of them trying hard to be friends as opposed to therapist/patient. So, now Blaine asks more questions, and Chad makes a point of sharing.

Until tonight. Tonight Blaine needs help.

“So, um,” Blaine starts, scratching at his beer label with his thumb. “Can we, um. Well, would you maybe mmmm-mind, if.” He looks at Chad, begging him to read his mind.

Chad’s eyebrows furrow, but he’s not sure why Blaine is so troubled. Blaine hasn’t had this much trouble talking around Chad since the first couple weeks he started therapy.

Blaine looks away and huffs out a breath. “Would you be annoyed if w-w-w-we talked about my s-s-spah-speech, for a, a, a minute?”

Chad laughs. “I wouldn’t be mad at all.”

“I just, I-I-I don’t want to annoy you. It’s gotta be kind of, um, of annoying, like taking your work home with you.”

Chad rolls that thought around for a second. “It’s not really the same. You’re not asking me to do paperwork, right? Or like create challenges for you? Or to a-a-assess your speech using the SSI-4? I mean, I take my s-st-stutter home with me every night,” Chad shrugs. Not sure where that thought process was going, but hoping that Blaine gets it. “I talk about speech and stuttering all the time in my, my, my off hours.”

“Okay,” Blaine says, nodding, licking his lips. “I have an interview. And it’s for a prestigious mmmm-music camp. One of the counselors had to drop out at the last s-s-second, so now they’re scrambling to fill a position. One of my professors pulled some strings for mmm-me. To work there, not like go there. And I-I-I have to audition, which I don’t mind. I can play in front of people. But there’s a bah-bah-board that I have to interview with. It’s 5 or 6 people and it’s...” He stops and shakes his head.

“Terrifying,” Chad finishes.

“Yep,” Blaine agrees.

“You’ll be f-f-fine.”

Blaine turns to Chad and raises his eyebrows.

“You’ll be fine,” Chad repeats. “Just for starters, you’re an incredible musician. But more than that, they’d be assholes not to take you. You have nothing but the best re-f-f-f-ferences, you’ve been doing this a couple years, you’re obviously interested. Your speech is really good lately”

“What if...” Blaine puts his hands up in a “look at all the variables” gesture.

Chad scratches his head and sighs. “Don’t do it. Don’t go to the what ifs. Do you hear yourself tonight? I’ve never h-h-heard you this good. Just bottle whatever you’re doing tonight and take it with you to the interview.”

“Oh, of course. That’s how s-s-spah-speech works,” Blaine says sarcastically.

“Maybe not. But you, you, you know what I mean.”

Blaine bobs his head. He does know what Chad means, in theory. “But it’s never worked for me like that be-be-before.”

“Yeah, but I’m not talking to you as a spah-spah-spah-eech therapist, I’m talking to you as a fellow sss-stutterer. Sometimes, every once in while, you can push yourself into a mind over matter situation, when you need to.”

“I’ve never actually mmm-managed to do that.”

“Of course you have.”

“I have?”

“What do you think you do eh-eh-every time you present in class?”

“Stutter like a crazy person and hope no one laughs at, at, at mmm-me,” he answers seriously.

“You do more than that.”

“Okay,” Blaine inhales deeply. “Maybe I-I-I do.”

“When’s the interview?”

“Two days.”

“Don’t over prepare. That’s my ad-ad-advice. Have your audition stuff all ready, obviously, let that speak for itself. And then just take it as it comes. They’re not going to try to trick you. And if, if, if they don’t like you for the jah-jah-job, that’s their problem. If they don’t like you for your speech, they can go fuck themselves.” With that, Chad holds up his beer bottle and Blaine clinks them together, his face breaking into a grin.

“Fuck ‘em,” Blaine says.

They drink in silence for a few minutes. “Anything I-I-I-I can do to help you?” Blaine asks as he finishes his beer and orders another.

“I’m good,” Chad says.

Last time they hung out, Chad had explained that most of the time, his speech doesn’t get the better of him. He goes about his day basically with an “I stutter, deal with it” attitude. But when it comes to talking to women, he’s a mess, or so he says.

“Everything is good?” Blaine prods, wanting Chad to share if he wants to. He doesn’t need to shelter Blaine, he knows that looking at Chad is sort of like looking at his future. But he’s lucky, because unlike Chad, he already has Kurt. Chad’s still looking for his Kurt, his girl version of Kurt, at least.

“Honestly?” Chad starts to say something, but at that moment, a woman bumps into him from behind, and he turns to look at her, before dropping his eyes.

“Sorry about that,” she says with a smile, as she goes to walk away, she pauses. “You look really familiar.”

Blaine watches, in awe, as the confident Chad from moments ago turns into a completely different person. His posture changes, his jaw gets slack, and he blinks at her for a moment.

“Um, yeah, we um. You, I mean, I. I live down the, the, the, um, ha-hall from you,” he mumbles, a blush creeping up his neck, not quite looking her in the eye.

“Oh!” she exclaims, recognition dawning across her face, “I’m Melinda.” She puts her hand out to shake. Chad shakes it briefly and then clenches his hands in his lap.

“Nice, it’s nice, um, to meet you. I’m...” he sucks in a breath, and Blaine looks from her to him. He decides to jump in, when he notices the way Chad’s chin is jutting.

“I’m Bah-bah-laine,” he says putting his hand out, diverting attention from Chad’s block. “And this is Chad.”

She smiles at Blaine, gripping his hand. “Do you live down the hall too?” she asks.

“Um. No, just a friend. I’ll be rrr-right bah-back,” he excuses himself, but not before making talking gestures with his hands behind Melinda.

As Blaine walks away, Chad clears his throat. “So,” he’s not sure what to say, but he could kiss Blaine on the mouth for not making him say his name. Kurt would be jealous though. He shakes his head, clearing that thought process.

“I’m glad to run into someone,” Melinda confesses. “I’m waiting to meet a friend and she just texted to say she’s running late. And I hate standing around in bars by myself. Not that you have to hang out with me. I’m sorry. Maybe you’re on a date and I’m interrupting. Sorry. I’ll just go...” She points in a random direction and is about to walk away.

Chad grabs her arm, lightly, and lets go like his hand is on fire. He doesn’t want to give the wrong impression. He’s not a very touchy, feely guy.

“No, no. Stay, please, it’s okay. We’re not on a, a, a date.”

She’s quiet for a second and then smiles, embarrassed. “Sorry. I say weird things sometimes. I think my mouth has a mind of it’s own. Like it never pays attention to when my brain tells it to stop. There I go again. That’s a weird thing to say. Anyway. I’ve been meaning to introduce myself. So, yeah. This is convenient.”

“It is,” Chad says. “And no need to a-a-apologize.”

“Me and talking are sometimes not the best mix,” she tells him.

“I have a s-s-s-st-stutter,” he blurts out and blushes.

“Oh, okay,” she says, awkwardly.

“So, I’m not, I’m not very good. At talking, e-e-e-either.” His eyes go everywhere but her face. He blew it. He rubs the back on his neck, and shifts his eyes to the ground. This kind of blundering is a very good example as to why he should stop talking to women. He’s just bad at it. He could save everyone a lot of discomfort.

“Thank you,” Melinda says. “Thank you for telling me.”

He looks over at her and they make eye contact, finally, fully. She has beautiful brown eyes, like chocolate, and he relaxes. He shrugs, no one’s ever thanked him for talking about his speech, and he’s not sure why she did, but it makes sense, in a twisted sort of way.

Blaine comes back at that moment, plopping down on his barstool and taking a swig of his almost full beer. He waves at them, when they turn to him. Blaine is vaguely aware that he might have just ruined a moment, but he didn’t want to waste the rest of his beer or just disappear on Chad in case things weren’t going well.

Chad and Melinda both clear their throats and say, “So” at the same time and then giggle. Chad gestures for her to go first.

“How you guys know each other?” she asks, friendly, interested.

Blaine looks at Chad. And Chad looks at Blaine, who nods.

“Oh, well. Blaine is, well, no, Blaine was,” he amends, “a speech therapy patient of mine for a, a, a long time. But now he’s my f-f-friend.” Chad trails off, lamely.

“So, you’re a speech therapist, who stutters?” she asks Chad.

“Yes.”

“It actually works r-r-r-really well,” Blaine chimes in. “Like, because I-I-I s-s-s-stutter, it’s like I trust him more b-b-because he dah-dah-does, too.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Melinda says.

The conversation moves on to different topics, what Melinda does, how long she’s been living in the same building as Chad, Blaine’s very strong opinions with regards to the micro-brew he just drank. Her friend texts at one point to cancel on her, and she just shakes her head.

“I should have known,” she says with an eye roll. “You know how some friends just suck at friendship, but you keep them around anyway?”

Blaine feigns a text of his own at that moment. “Oh, um. I-I-I-I should go. I forgot that I’m mmm-meeting my b-boy-boyfriend.” He knows it sounds like a lie, but he’s pretty sure Chad has this under control.

He offers his stool to Melinda who looks at Chad.

“Are you staying?” she asks, cautiously.

“Um, sure. I, I would like that. If, if, if you want to,” Chad offers, shyly, not wanting to make her feel like she has to stay. “I’ll buy you a … whatever it is you’re drinking.”

“This is an appletini,” she tells him demurely.

Chad laughs.

Blaine says goodbye, telling Melinda it was nice to meet her and then giving Chad the international symbol for “text me tomorrow or I will cut your throat” before leaving.

It’s only 10 o’clock, so he texts Kurt. When he hears back from him, he veers towards Kurt’s apartment. They can watch whatever’s on Nick at Nite. Maybe make out for a little while. Not a terrible way to end a Wednesday, Blaine thinks.

Kurt buzzes him up, and Blaine takes the stairs two at a time. When he enters, the only light is the glow from the tv in the living room, and Kurt is curled around a throw pillow.

“Hey dumdum,” Blaine says, tossing his wallet and phone on the table, while toeing off his shoes. He walks over to the couch, and Kurt sits up to make room for him. Kurt gives him a kiss on the cheek, before returning to his position, this time using Blaine’s lap for a pillow. Blaine props his his feet on the coffee table and rests his hand on Kurt’s hip.

“What’s up?” Blaine asks.

“Nothing,” Kurt responds. “That was quick. I thought you’d be out with Chad longer.”

“Well, the Chadster’s a lady killer and I-I-I left him there hitting on a, a, a chick,” Blaine explains.

Kurt cranes his neck to give Blaine a look of disbelief.

“Okay, fine,” Blaine sighs. “We r-r-r-ran into a woman who lives in the same b-b-building as him, and they s-s-seemed to be having fun together, so I figured I’d give them sp-sp-space and come hang out w-with you.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Kurt says, as he finds Blaine’s other hand and laces their fingers together. “Also, good for Chad.”

“Indeed,” Blaine says. “Where’s Rachel?”

“She’s spending the night at Puck’s.”

“Wow. What’s the occasion?”

“I have no idea, she ran out of her a couple hours ago, and said she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.”

“Not to abruptly change the subject, but are you okay?” Blaine asks because Kurt’s voice is hollow, tired. He just doesn’t seem himself.

“Yeah, fine,” Kurt says, snuggling closer to Blaine.

They’re quiet for a few minutes, watching tv. During the next commercial Blaine decides to ask again.

“Are you r-r-really okay? I’m a little bit worried about you.” Blaine taps his foot, nervous. Not wanting to make Kurt feel pressured, but sensing that something’s off.

“You’ve b-b-been quiet lately,” Blaine presses, gently, trying to get Kurt to share. He never wants to be called oblivious again, and he’s been working really hard on learning to read Kurt’s moods these days. Their relationship is a hundred times stronger than it was last year at this time, that’s for sure, and Blaine really just has a feeling.

Kurt sits up and looks at Blaine. In the wan light of the tv, Blaine can’t help but notice the bags under Kurt’s eyes and the tired sag of his shoulders.

“I think I’m having a quarter life crisis,” Kurt says.

Blaine nods, completely unshocked.

“I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing, that I let things just come too easily, with the job at Teen Vogue, I regret not looking further into grad school,” Kurt stops. “It’s not a big deal.”

Blaine makes a face. “Of course it’s a b-b-b-big deal. That’s a, a, a lot of thoughts you’ve beh-been sitting on. Why didn’t you sssss-say anything sooner?”

Kurt shrugs. “It took me awhile to get through to these thoughts. LIke mostly I feel relieved to be done with school. And not have to deal with homework or classes or advisors anymore. But I feel like I didn’t make any … decisions.”

“What do you mmm-mean?”

“I mean, I’m going to graduate, and my life isn’t going to be much different, except now I get to spend an extra 20 to 25 hours a week at the office. Like, maybe I should have considered things more. I know I should be grateful for this editorial assistant position they gave me, but I never even tried looking for something else. Maybe I should have.”

Blaine considers this for a moment. “But you m-m-m-made decisions be-be-before. When you realized that you w-w-wanted to go into fashion, instead of performing, and, and, and when you accepted the job at Teen Vogue.”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, seemingly unplacated. He makes a face.

“Then what’s the problem?” Blaine asks, confused.

“I just want to be happy,” Kurt whispers.

Blaine hugs Kurt close to him. “You’re nah-not happy?” Blaine asks quietly.

“No, I’m happy, I am. I guess. There’s more you know?” Kurt pauses. “I want to be satisfied.”

“You’re 22, I think there’s plenty of time to be s-s-s, sat-satisfied. It’s not like you’re unsuccessful be-be-because you’re a, a, a little confused when you’re 22.”

“I know. But how do you know that?”

“I’m wise be-be-beyond my years.”

“I love you an awful lot, Blaine.” Kurt rubs his eyes, wiping a stray tear away.

“Oh, Kurt. Don’t cry. I love you, too. I w-w-wish you had, had, had brought this up ssss-ooner. I like listening to you.”

“I felt like I was being whiny and like it didn’t make sense in my head.”

Blaine shrugs, not accepting of that excuse. “I-I-I whine to you all the time. I feel like a, a, a good portion of our re-re-relationship is b-b-built on our mmm-mutual appreciation for whining.”

“You never whine.”

“I whine all the time! I’m currently whining about whining!” Blaine shouts, making Kurt giggle.

Kurt brings his hands to Blaine’s neck and laces his fingers behind it, drawing their mouths together. Their lips press, once, twice, three times, Blaine turns a bit getting a better angle, bringing his hands to Kurt’s face. Kurt finds a more comfortable spot, putting his legs over Blaine’s lap and they kiss, for seconds, minutes, who knows. It doesn’t actually matter.

Blaine nips down Kurt’s neck and then stops, pulling away.

“Did you just change the sub-sub-subject by making out with mm-me?” Blaine asks, suspicious of Kurt’s intentions.

“Nah, I was done,” Kurt says, moving in to suck on Blaine’s bottom lip.

Blaine pulls back again, finding Kurt’s eyes. “Kurt, are you r-r-really okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I promise when I’m not fine, I will talk to you.”

“Are you just sss-saying that so I’ll have sex w-w-with you?”

Kurt makes a thinking face, pursing his lips and furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m going to say 70/40. Mostly I’m done. And fine.”

“70/40? You’re st-st-sticking with that?”

“Yep.”

“Even though that equals 110.”

Kurt laughs. “I love you 110%.”

“You are so very cheesy s-s-s-sometimes.”

Kurt straddles Blaine, and begins working his lips on Blaine’s neck, moving up to his mouth to suck on his bottom lip.

“Is this cheesy?” Kurt asks, nose to nose with Blaine, who’s eyes are closed and head is back a little bit.

“Nope, not even a little,” Blaine mumbles.

Kurt starts to unbutton Blaine’s cardigan. “This is a lovely item of clothing you have here.”

Blaine smiles lazily. “Are we really making s-s-small talk about clothes that you b-b-b-bought for me or … can we continue what we were d-d-doing?”

“I was just going to say that it’ll look better on the floor,” Kurt says innocently.

“You would never, ever drop an, an, an item of clothing on the floor. Not even in the throes of p-p-passion.”

“You’re right,” Kurt admits, as he folds Blaine’s sweater and tosses it onto the chair. While he’s doing that, Blaine drags his t-shirt over his own head, while Kurt pulls off his various layers.

Kurt focuses on Blaine and runs his hand over the light dusting of hair on his chest, and then pinches his nipples.

“Ow!” Blaine whines. “Not fair.” And then tweaks Kurt’s nipple in revenge.

Before they can get further into that fight, Kurt pulls Blaine in for a deep kiss and starts unbuttoning his pants.

Blaine puts his hands on Kurt’s waist, and let’s his thumbs drift under the denim of his jeans, rubbing firm circles on the smooth skin at the top of Kurt’s ass.

“Wow,” Kurt mumbles around Blaine’s lips, “that feels super awesome.”

Blaine smiles and continues circling, moving his thumbs lower. Kurt moans at the touch.

Just as Blaine is about to propose a location change, the front door slams open, and Rachel and Puck burst in, locked in their own deep kiss. At least they’re fulling clothed though.

Kurt leaps off the couch, and Blaine jumps up behind him, looking for something to hide his hard-on behind aside from Kurt’s leg. He makes a grab for a throw pillow and stares at the wall opposite Rachel and Puck. This is the most embarrassed he’s been in a very long time.

Rachel turns and puts her hand over her mouth, and Kurt stands with his hands on his hips.

Puck’s jaw is on the floor. And then he smirks.

“Well, hello there,” Puck says.

“Rachel!” Kurt shrieks. “I thought you were staying at Puck’s.”

“We were but it just smells really bad … and his cable went out,” Rachel says. “I texted you to warn you!”

“Oh,” Kurt mutters, glancing at his phone on the coffee table.

“Hey Blaine,” Rachel says. Blaine’s face is on fire so he just waves from behind Kurt, still not able to make eye contact.

“So, you guys were having a little fun?” Puck asks. “Fucking around on the couch. Rachel and I,” before he can finish, Rachel punches him in the kidney

“Shut up, Puckerman,” Rachel hisses. “We’ll just be in my room. Continue on your way.”

They turn into Rachel’s room and Blaine lets out a long breath before burying his overheated face in Kurt’s back.

“Aw, poophead,” Kurt says, turning around. “Are you okay?”

Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s waist.

“Just embarrassed,” Blaine whispers.

“Rachel doesn’t care,” Kurt says.

“I know,” Blaine shrugs. “I-I-I can’t help it.”

Kurt rubs his back, and pulls him closer. He can feel Blaine’s heart hammering.

“Come on,” he says, pulling Blaine along. “I’ll make you feel better.”

Kurt winks over his shoulder, and Blaine blushes a little deeper, but smiles inspite of himself.

~~~~~

May 11th  
@ 3:42 pm  
Chad: You’ll be pleased to know that I’m seeing Melinda again this weekend.

3:45 pm  
Blaine: YESSSSSS. Totally approve.

3:47 pm  
Chad: thanks for helping me last night.

3:51 pm  
Blaine: Because that was a HUGE problem and totally made up for how much you’ve helped me.  
Blaine: Obviously.

3:54 pm  
Chad: No seriously. You really helped me out. I’m terrible with girls and you really helped.  
Chad: Excellent wingman skills.

3:56 pm  
Blaine: Thanks. :)

3:57 pm  
Chad: Good luck at your interview tomorrow!  
Chad: Let me know how it goes.

3:59 pm  
Blaine: Definitely. And same to you about your date.

4:02 pm  
Chad: I’m so freaking lame. I should not be this excited, but yeah, I’ll let you know.

4:04 pm  
Blaine: Hopefully she won’t notice how lame you are.

4:07 pm  
Chad: Fingers crossed, man. Fingers crossed.


	12. Chapter 12

To: Mom, From: Blaine  
Date: Thurs, May 26, 1:28 pm  
Subject: Itinerary

Dear mamacita,

As requested, here’s the plan.

Tomorrow: Leave NYC with Rachel and Puck around noon.  
Saturday: Hang out with Kurt.  
Sunday: Hang out with Kurt.  
Monday: BBQ/Grad party/My birthday. Go home with you guys after.  
Tuesday: You make me chicken.  
Wednesday: Hang out with you/chicken  
Thursday: Hang out with Cooper/chicken  
Friday: Go with Dad to therapy/chicken.  
Saturday: You make me chicken.  
Sunday: Kurt, Puck, and Rachel pick me up and we go back to NYC, making sure that there’s leftover chicken for me to bring with us.

Love,  
Blaine

PS Yes. There is a theme.

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Mom  
Date: Thurs, May 26, 2:02 pm  
Subject: re: Itinerary

That’s a lot of chicken, Blaine. I’ll see what I can do.

Thanks for keeping me up to date!

Love, Mom

~~~~~

To: Mom, From: Blaine  
Date: Thurs, May 26, 9:07 pm  
Subject: re: Itinerary

It’s negotiable. But there should be at least two chickens involved.

~~~~~

These days, Blaine fits seamlessly into the routine at Kurt’s house. He helps Carole clean up after dinner, he and Finn go for a run. He doesn’t feel awkward there and he doesn’t feel like Kurt has to be with him every second. On Sunday afternoon when Burt invites him along on an emergency tow, Blaine is happy to accept. (Little known to Blaine, this was semi-planned between father and son to give Kurt and Carole time to bake Blaine a birthday cake. Red velvet, of course.)

The tow is a bit farther away than Burt generally accepts, but any time he takes an emergency call like this, the money goes right into a special account for trips to and from New York for either him or Kurt, depending on whose turn it is, so he doesn’t begrudge the extra miles.

He and Blaine sit companionably in the cab of the tow truck, chatting idly. Burt likes this kid, sees easily why Kurt likes him, and he finds himself more invested in Blaine’s well being than he would have guessed.

“So, how’s life, kid?” Burt asks.

Blaine’s curls dance a little in the breeze, he squints in the sunlight, and smiles over at Burt. “It’s kinda w-w-wonderful.”

“How are things going these days with your dad?” Burt asks, casually. “I don’t wanna be too nosy, but I haven’t heard much lately. Figured I’d ask.”

Blaine smiles, happy that Kurt’s dad cares enough to inquire.

“They’re good,” Blaine says. “That’s not nah-nosy at all.”

“I think, fathers and sons don’t always have it easy. My old man and I, we didn’t always see things the same way. He wasn’t a bad guy, but,” Burt trails off and shrugs. He doesn’t mean to wax poetic on family dynamics, but there’s something about Blaine. Burt wants him to know that he’s allowed to talk.

“I-I-I think,” Blaine pauses and swallows. “I think my problem with my dah-dah-dad is that mmm-maybe we’re a lot alike and neither of, of, of us ever wants to acknowledge it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Burt says, not even having to feign interest. He’s curious about Blaine’s family life, has been for a while. He noticed on Thanksgiving that they seemed okay, but from things Blaine has mention in the past, and things he’s heard Kurt say in passing, he wasn’t sure how supportive Blaine’s family was.

Blaine nods and then leans his head back on the seat, closing his eyes. “Yeah. He s-s-stu-stuttered, as a kid and he grew out of it. He was always s-s-s-sort of a jerk about my sp, s-s-s, speech while I was growing up. But like, the older I-I-I-I get maybe the, the, more, um the more I understand.”

“Doesn’t excuse him from being a jerk,” Burt mutters, unable to keep his mouth shut.

Blaine laughs. “That’s true. Buh-buh-ut not every father is B-b-burt Hummel.”

Burt thinks about that for a second. “I don’t know. Seems to me it’s not that hard to be a dad. You accept your kid, you love them, you let them make their own mistakes, and try not to take anything too personally.”

Blaine looks back over at Burt. “Huh.”

They’re at a stoplight, so Burt takes the opportunity to look over at Blaine, who’s face full of something like wonder, like he had an epiphany.

“What?” Burt asks.

“You like … rr-really get it,” Blaine says.

“Get what?” Burt asks.

“Being a, a, a dah-dad. You get it.”

“I get being Kurt’s dad. I don’t know how I’d do at being anyone else’s father.”

Blaine considers this, making a little humming noise before continuing.

“I think mmm-my dad takes my spah-spah-speech too personally. And to him, it is pers, pers, personal. He understood too well what life was, and still is sometimes, like for me. I-I-I mean. Still he’s kind of a ba-ba-bastard.” Blaine puts his hand over his mouth. “Sorry.”

“My dad was kind of a bastard, too,” Burt confesses with a grin.

“He’s not always … the, the, the nicest guy about things,” Blaine amends. “But he really sss-seems to be trying lately. Actually, he’s b-b-b-been trying harder for like two years.”

“Well that’s good,” Burt says. “You get along with your mom, right?”

“Yeah, for sure. She’s a good mm-mom. It took me a long time to s-s-s-see that. When I-I-I was a kid, I always thought she was on, on, on my dad’s side,” Blaine says quietly.

“You thought there were sides?” Burt asks.

“Yeah.”

“That had to be hard,” Burt says.

“It was almost beh-beh-better when I thought they w-w-were b-both against me. Sometimes,” he stops himself again, why is he divulging all this to Burt? Burt looks over at him, obviously interested, obviously willing to listen, so Blaine clears his throat and continues. “Sometimes I-I-I-I don’t know why she would stay with him. Why she loves him. How she can even ... like him. How she ended up with him in the first place.”

Burt bobs his head, wishing he had something to offer Blaine. Wishing he knew. “Have you ever asked her?”

“I-I-I don’t know. Would that, would that be rrrrr-rude?”

Burt shrugs. “Depends on how ya ask, I guess.”

Blaine chews his lip, debating how much he wants to reveal to Burt. He decides to push on, they’re still a few minutes away from the tow.

“I was really s-s-s-scared to come out to him,” Blaine says.

“I’d imagine that’s a scary thing no matter what.”

Blaine nods, thinking that over. “Yeah. I-I-I was worried how he would re-re-react. But like. It ended up actually be-be-being a really good thing. I don’t know why, or, or, or how, but since then, things have b-been b-better. Not great, or perfect, but improving.”

“Maybe cause you were honest about yourself, he felt like he could be more honest?”

“I-I-I don’t know,” Blaine sighs. “I’m sorry I didn’t mmm-mean for things to get so … heavy.” They’re pulling up to the woman’s car now, and Blaine feels like he overshared with his boyfriend’s father.

“No such thing as too heavy,” Burt tells him. “Good talk, Blaine.”

“Thanks for, um, for listening.” Blaine peaks at Burt and sees him smiling.

Burt doesn’t hesitate before ruffling Blaine’s already messy hair, and then hops out of the truck.

Blaine follows close behind.

~~~~~

Crowds as big as the one at Kurt’s graduation party still tend to make Blaine a little nervous. It’s a lot of strangers, a lot of people to be introduced to, and far too many variables. He mingles, mostly with people he already knows, but Kurt introduce him around to his extended family, which seems to be made up of great aunts and second cousins mostly.

Early in the evening, as the sun dips low on the horizon, Blaine sees the hammock is empty, so he sags onto it, vertically, appreciating a little time to himself. He’d like a beer, but he’s already had two, and he always feels weird drinking too much in front of his parents. He has no idea why.

Blaine scans the yard for them, finding them together, sitting on a garden bench laughing with the couple sitting in lawn chairs across from them. His father’s arm is draped around his mother’s shoulders, her hand on his knee. He observes them. Trying to take them in like he’s never seen them before.

They’re well dressed, and charismatic together. They have a certain give and take that he’s never noticed before. The way his father starts a sentence and his mother supplies the rest. He imagines that this is how their relationship started. That this is the chemistry that’s kept his mother with his father for the past 34, almost 35 years.

He sits on the hammock for a while, a rotation of people coming by and chatting with him, joining him there. Tina for a while, sinking into the hammock next to him, chatting about all the people she hasn’t seen in forever. He’s happy to have a couple minutes alone with her. They had gotten so close while Kurt was in Paris, but haven’t seen each other much over the past few months. He makes a mental note to hang out with her more one on one. She really is one of the best listeners he’s ever met.

Next come Rachel and Puck, neither of whom Blaine could make eye contact with for almost a week after they walked in on he and Kurt last month. He’s gotten over it, but Puck finds ways to razz him about incessantly. After Puck and Rachel wander away, then Finn and Sam join him, crowding him on the hammock, but making him laugh, making him feel like part of the group. He’s forever grateful for how they make him feel included, and not like he’s just Kurt’s boyfriend.

In the quiet moments, his thoughts travel back to his parents. It’s weird that he’s never thought to ask about how they met. It’s weird that he just doesn’t know. He feels like he might have heard things here and there. Maybe they met at the beach? He remembers something about a lake.

Blaine’s thoughts are interrupted this time when Kurt plops, unceremoniously, onto the hammock next to him, making it swing gently. A lot of the extended family has left, along with the neighbors and the guys from Burt’s tire shop, leaving only 20 or so people scattered around the yard, all of whom Blaine would consider at least acquaintances. His parents have moved to the deck and are talking to Burt. He’s pretty sure they’re going to want to leave soon, but he’s not quite ready.

“A beer for your thoughts,” Kurt chirps, handing him an already open bottle.

Blaine smiles, accepting the drink, deciding who cares if he gets a little tipsy in front of his parents, it’s his 22nd birthday. “I’m thinking about mmm-my parents.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, settling into the netting, sipping a beer of his own.

“Just about how they s-s-s-seem. How people perceive them I-I-I guess,” he explains. And then he blows over the opening of his beer bottle, making it whistle a low note. Kurt giggles and squeezes closer to him.

“That’s awfully deep thoughts for a barbecue,” Kurt says, brushing hair off Blaine’s forehead.

“Oh yeah? What should I be, be, be thinking about?” Blaine inquires.

Kurt glances towards the deck, where Carole is coming out with a cake. A cake with a “22” candle on it. A birthday cake.

Blaine rolls his eyes and blushes. “Seriously?”

Kurt shrugs.

Carole puts the cake on the table and gets everyone’s attention, calling them over.

Kurt bounces up to the deck, dragging Blaine along, but once there, Blaine hangs back a bit. This is a spectacle. Blaine does not appreciate spectacles.

“It’s not just Kurt’s graduation party today,” Carole begins. “It’s also Blaine’s 22nd birthday. We wanted to give him a cake and say happy birthday, and figured he should get to blow out some candles.”

Burt takes the grill lighter at that point and lights up the the two candles. Blaine extracts himself from the crowd, smiling but covering his eyes in embarrassment. At least no one’s singing, that’s the only thought that’s keeping him from running away. Carole gives his shoulders a squeeze and the assembled crowd, of course, begins to sing. Blaine’s shoulders sag and his hands come to his face again. He feels Kurt’s hand on his waist and Blaine lets his hands fall from his face.

Everyone smiles. Everyone. And Blaine realizes that they purposefully waited for the “other people” to leave so that Blaine would feel more comfortable being the center of attention. That thought doesn’t stop the blush from creeping up his ears, but it does make him genuinely smile. It does make him feel genuinely loved.

So he squares his shoulders and holds his head up. He licks his lips and blows the candles out. He turns back to the crowd and gets hugs and pats on the back from pretty much everyone. Kurt kisses his cheek, and he sees his mom with tears in her eyes.

And his dad smiling proudly.

Life is good.

~~~~~

Going to therapy is easy for Blaine. After all those years with Paula, it feels natural to him and he actually likes the guy that his dad goes to. So when he happens to be home and has dad has an appointment, they go together. It’s only been a couple of times, and he would hesitate to say he “likes” it, but it seems to be working.

On the Friday after Memorial Day, he’s headed to therapy with his dad. After the barbecue on Monday, he has a couple of questions that he thinks would be better asked in front of a mediator. He’s been thinking a lot about his parent’s relationship since then. About how they got together and what keeps them together. He can’t get it out of his head.

He doesn’t quite worry so much any more about turning into his father, but he feels like it would be better to head it off at the pass and that entails knowing how his father became the man he is today. In Blaine’s mind, he can’t imagine who his father was when his parents fell in love. He knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his mom wouldn’t have been attracted to him if he didn’t have more to offer than a surly attitude and a grumpy demeanor.

When the therapist, Neil, asks if they have anything in particular on their minds today, Blaine decides to dive right in. He’s thought about the perfect way to phrase his issue, without sounding too judgmental or offensive.

“I’ve b-b-been wondering about, about something, lately.” Blaine’s addressing Neil more at this point, but then he turns to his father. “I-I-I was watching you and mmm-mom the other day at the b-bar, at the bar-bar-becue at Kurt’s, and it got me thinking, um, about how you guys mmm-met.” He trails off, feeling a little weird to have put it out there.

The therapist just sits back and lets them discuss their issues. Blaine likes having the third party there, he’s not sure he would get the same information out of his father one on one. Greg believes Blaine would never ask questions like this if they were alone.

His dad is surprised by the question. He never knew Blaine was curious about this kind of thing. He never thought Blaine was interested in stories from his past. Although he really thought Blaine had heard the story a hundred times.

“We never told you how we met?” His father seems mystified by this realization.

Blaine shakes his head and shrugs. In that moment, he decides that if and when he and Kurt have kids, they’ll make sure to tell them the whole story of how their parents met, in part because it’s a good story, but there are other reasons for kids to know such a story. It’s important, it’s inclusive. It’s good to know how your family started.

“We actually met at a Memorial Day barbecue.” His face softens at the memory. “Your mother and her friend, Ruthie, beat my cousin Paul and I at badminton. And then she and I just … hit it off.”

Blaine smiles. “I would have, have never guessed Mom was so … proficient at b-b-ba-badminton.”

“Oh, for sure. They really whipped us. Ruthie was a spitfire.”

Blaine laughs. He’s met Ruthie. Spitfire is pretty much the perfect word for her.

“I want, I want to ask a, a, another question,” Blaine says, again he first addresses the therapist, almost as if making sure he’s still there. Then he addresses his father. “Buh-buh-ut I-I-I don’t want to offend you.”

His father’s expression becomes serious, but he nods.

“Who were you then?” Blaine asks, eyes squinting a bit, searching his father’s face.

His father takes off his glasses, pinches the bridge of his nose, and then wipes at his eyes.

“You don’t have to, to, to answer that. I’m ssss-sorry,” Blaine says.

“No, no. It’s not that. It’s a fair question, I’m a completely different man today,” he sighs, trying to think of a way to explain this to Blaine. “Do you stutter when you do impressions?”

“No, never,” Blaine tells him.

“Good, that might really help you understand everything,” he turns away from Blaine, collecting his thoughts for a moment, before turning back and looking him square in the eye. “It’s like I’ve been doing an impression for years. Decades even.”

“But why?” Blaine asks.

His father huffs a mirthless laugh. “Well, I’ve talked about this with Neil a lot,” he begins, gesturing towards the therapist. “I grew out of my stutter, but it didn’t leave me. It would hang around, and it would pop up at the most ... inopportune times. I wouldn’t block the way I did as a kid. But it would leave me feeling stupid sometimes, in front of clients, or the partners at my firm, or women. So I started doing an impression all the time. A guy that was sort of me, but a lot more confident.”

Blaine is enthralled by this story. He has so many questions, but he can tell it’s still his father’s turn to talk.

“I changed my voice a bit, made it deeper, held myself differently. But when I met your mother I wasn’t that guy yet, I wasn’t even trying to be that guy yet. I was still nervous and reserved. I was fairly shy around her, and scared of messing it up. After we played badminton, she found me by myself inside.”

“Why w-w-were you b-by yourself?” Blaine interrupts, fascinated.

His father looks at the ceiling. “I had stuttered, in front of a colleague. A teeny, tiny stutter, mostly in head, it had barely even made it out of my mouth. No one would have recognized it, I don’t think. No one noticed it in the conversation. But I felt like hiding for a little while, wanting to gain my composure I guess. And your mother found me stewing.”

“What did she s-s-say?”

“She was … kind. A little bit flirty, kind of broke me out of my shell and brought me back to the world. I asked her out before she left. We were dating for about six months when I asked her to marry me. I was still myself with her back then. It wasn’t until after Cooper was born, but some time before my parents died, that I turned into that caricature I’d created. I became him 24/7. Gregory Anderson, esquire.”

“So, who, who are you now?” Blaine asks.

“I like to think that I’m a little bit more like that guy who got his ass kicked in badminton 35 years ago.”

“And how’s that going for you?” Blaine grins this time, trying to lighten the mood.

“I don’t know. What do you think?” his dad counters. And Blaine see that he honestly wants Blaine’s opinion.

“I … well, I mean, obviously I-I-I didn’t know you during that b-b-ba-ba-badminton game, but I like you more now than I did a, a, a couple years ago.”

His father face falls, almost imperceptibly. “I guess that’s all I can really ask for.”

“What, what do you, um, expect?” Blaine asks gently. It’s a question that could come out snide, or angry, but it’s not. It’s an honest question.

“I expect I’ll have to keep trying. I expect I have to show you rather than tell you.”

“Show me what?” Blaine whispers, out of nowhere wishing that he and his father were capable of having this discussion alone, that it didn’t take going to a third party location to have a personal conversation. He wishes he could just trust him, forgive him, move on.

What’s interesting though, and this thought flies through his head so quickly he almost doesn’t have time to pin it down, is that he never wishes it didn’t happen. He rarely wishes anymore that he didn’t stutter, he doesn’t wish he and his father’s relationship was fine from the start. Life is what it is. He can only change what’s going to happen, not what occurred in the past.

His father shifts in chair, turning his body towards Blaine, sincerity written all over his face.

“That I care, that I’m sorry, and that I love you.”

“I-I-I can almost s-s-see it,” Blaine says, suddenly shy.

“Almost,” his dad repeats.

And that’s good enough for now.


	13. Chapter 13

Back in New York, Blaine feels the slap of reality.

While he was gone, May turned into June, and Kerry’s departure date for Honduras is a week away. Part of the reason he decided to stay in Ohio for so long was so that Kerry and Matt could have some time to themselves. She’ll be spending a good part of the next week in Connecticut with her parents, but they’re planning songs for open mic night on Friday and a goodbye party for later that evening.

When he arrives at his apartment Saturday afternoon, he can sense immediately when he opens the door that he walked into a serious discussion. He had texted Matt from the road, letting him know what time he would be home, mostly to avoid this kind of discomfort.

“Hey,” Blaine says awkwardly, setting his bag down.

They both wave at him from the couch.

“Um, I’m just going to … put my s-s-stuff in my room, and I’ll go to Kurt’s for a while.” He gestures towards his bedroom and drags his stuff in.

“Actually,” Kerry says, when Blaine reemerges. “Would you mind staying?”

He looks from her to Matt, confused.

“We could kind of use a mediator,” Matt tells him.

“You want me to, to, to mmm-mediate?” Blaine shakes his head. “You guys must be in s-s-s-some deep shit.”

“Well, not really mediate, but I think we need another voice in this discussion.”

Blaine’s intrigued, though a bit anxious at the prospect. He sits gingerly on the edge of the other couch, trying to stay physically away from them.

“What’s up?” Blaine asks.

“Well,” Matt starts. He stands up and paces in front of the tv. “As you’re well aware, I think Kerry and I should break up.”

Blaine turns to Kerry, perched on the arm of the other couch.

“And I agree,” Kerry says.

“But I want us to break up with … strings attached, and Kerry doesn’t want to.”

Blaine glances at Kerry to see if she has anything else to say.

She definitely does.

“I think we need to move on as much as we can. I mean, in 30 months when I get back to the states, you’re going to be a completely different person and so will I,” Kerry says. Blaine can tell this is a reiteration of something she said earlier, her voice and her demeanor make it obvious that she’s had it with this discussion.

They look at Blaine expectantly.

“So what would st-st-strings attached entail?” Blaine inquires.

“Well, I want to keep in touch,” Matt replies, pointedly.

“And so do I,” Kerry says, throwing up her hands weakly. “But I don’t want strings Matt. We don’t need strings. We can talk, and be friends without strings.”

“Because you immediately want to go off and be with some other guy?”

“No. Because I don’t want to feel bad living my life. I don’t want to keep one foot here.”

Matt stops pacing and stares at Kerry.

“I think you both have valid points,” Blaine offers.

They both glare at Blaine, and he stands up.

“I really don’t think you need mmm-me here for this.”

“No!” they shout in unison.

“We’ve been going around in circles for hours with this shit,” Matt says, plopping back on the couch, and Kerry slides off the arm to be next to him.

“And when you texted to say you were almost home, we decided to take a time out and wait for you and your sound mind. And see if you would mind helping.” Kerry looks thoughtful. “Do you mind helping?”

“I don’t, buh-ut,” Blaine takes a deep breath, sitting back down. “Neither of you can yell at mmm-me and you can’t get mad at me or, or, or say that I’m taking s-s-s-ides. If you want my honest opinion, I’ll, I’ll give it to you.”

Matt sits back down next to Kerry on the couch and leans his elbows on his knees. Kerry mirrors his pose.

“We’re sorry for yelling,” Kerry says, sincerely, and Matt nods along.

Blaine accepts her words with a smile. “You ready?” he asks.

“Bring it,” Matt says, and Kerry nods her agreement.

“Okay, first I need mm-more information. Matt, can you give me more de-de-details on what you mean by sssss-trings?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, we’ll get b-b-bback to you,” Blaine shakes his head and turns to Kerry. “Why dah-don’t you want s-s-strings?”

Kerry sighs. “I want a clean break. We’ve been together a long time, but I don’t think we should just let this fizzle and have to break up over the phone,” she explains to Blaine. “I’d much rather leave and feel at least a little bit of closure with this relationship rather than leaving it open ended.”

Blaine nods his head, considering her words. He turns back to Matt.

“Any better d-d-definition of, of, of strings yet?” Blaine asks Matt.

“Okay. I guess I’m just not quite ready to break up. I still love you,” he says to Kerry.

“I’m not saying I don’t love you, Matt. I’m saying it might not be enough. It’s probably not enough to get us through 30 months of living thousands of miles away from each other.”

“Hey, guys,” Blaine says, staring at his knees. When he can feel their attention he takes a deep breath. “I, um, I’ve done the long d-dis-distance thing, ya know? And it’s … hard. Really hard. And it w-w-wasn’t even half as long as Kerry will be gone. And you s-s-saw what happened there. We, we, we were a mmm-mess.”

He looks over at them, and they both see the sadness in his eyes. They hear the truth in his words.

Blaine shrugs away the residual sadness. “You both have valid points, buh-buh-ut Matt … I can’t help but think a clean br-br-br-break would be healthier.”

Matt nods. “I know.”

Kerry punches him. “If you knew why did you continue to fight me on it?”

“Cause I don’t want you to go, and I want to hold on to some piece of you for as long as I can,” Matt’s hand tenderly runs through Kerry’s hair, and she threads her arms around his neck. When he kisses her forehead, Blaine decides they don’t need him anymore. He grabs his keys and his phone and moves for the door.

“Thanks Blaine,” comes Kerry’s muffled voice.

“Anytime,” he whispers, and closes the door behind him.

~~~~~

To: Chad, From: Blaine  
Date: Sun, June 5, 2:49 pm  
Subject: this week?

The Matt and Kerry goodbye/break-up is starting, and I’m trying to stay away from my apartment as much as humanly possible this week. Seems like a good time to hang out. Are you around? Or are you busy with your lady friend?

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Chad  
Date: Sun, June 5, 3:18 pm  
Subject: re: this week?

I think I can sacrifice an evening with my lady friend to get a beer with you. Although, I’m not gonna lie, I feel used.

What happened with music camp? How did the interview/audition go? Did you get the job? You were supposed to text, and you never did.

~~~~~

To: Chad, From: Blaine  
Date: Sun, June 5, 4:44 pm  
Subject: re: this week?

Ah yes, music camp. The audition went well, the interview went *incredibly* well, and I got the job. And then I decided that I wanted to spend another summer playing with kids outside. It was a pretty stuffed shirt operation. I don’t want to wear button downs and khakis all summer. I want to run around with kids. Also, this summer the camp I usually work at is having a sleepover at the Bronx Zoo, and that sounds more fun.

So, I rejected music camp. It was fun to have the option to reject music camp. Maybe I’ll regret it eventually, but I feel like I won’t because I get to sleep at the zoo, ya know? Did you know I’m a zoo enthusiast?

So, really, how are things with Melinda?

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Chad  
Date: Sun, June 5, 5:19 pm  
Subject: re: this week?

Good for you. It’s hard to say no to stuff like that. As your former speech therapist, I’m fairly impressed that you were confident in your decision and stuck with your guns.

As your friend, um, obviously the camp that’s sleeping over at the zoo is the better choice. OBVIOUSLY. And yes, I’m aware that you are zealousness for zoos. (alliteration, you like that shit Blaine? You like that?!?!)

Things are really good with Mel. I mean, we’ve only been out a couple times, but I like her and she seems to like me and that’s … really awesome. Makes me feel good. We’ll talk when we see each other though. Might as well save something for the bar.

The usual place? Tomorrow night around 8?

~~~~~

To: Chad, From: Blaine  
Date: Sun, June 5, 5:25 pm  
Subject: re: this week?

Usual place tomorrow night at 8. See ya then!

~~~~~

June 7  
@ 9:40 pm  
Blaine: What are you doing tomorrow?

9:42 pm  
DiDi: Hanging out with you?

9:45 pm  
Blaine: YESSSSSSSSSSSS.  
Blaine: I was hoping you’d say that.

9:48 pm  
DiDi: I have a lunch date with Julia, wanna come with?

9:50 pm  
Blaine: perfect. I need to be out of the apartment a lot this week.

9:51 pm  
DiDi: Cause of the Merry breakup.

9:53 pm  
Blaine: There is *nothing* merry about this shit.  
Blaine: but I recognize that you are using a portmanteau

9:55 pm  
DiDi: Oh, Blaine. Always a show off with words that are too long.

9:59 pm  
Blaine: Oh, DiDi.  
Blaine: So, where are we going for lunch?

10:02 pm  
DiDi: Your favorite diner?

10:03 pm  
Blaine: Good work DiDi. Good work.

~~~~~

A Moment of Julia

I find myself alone with Blaine at the diner when he first arrives. DiDi had a haircut appointment and is a running a little late. He and I sit across from each other in a booth, and I talk and he smiles a lot, but doesn’t say much at all.

I’d like to call him on it, ask him why we can’t just be friends, but that seems incredibly rude. But we’ve known each other for a year now, and all of our friends are friends. It’s just awkward that he’s not my friend. But on the other hand, it’s even more awkward to ask someone “Why aren’t you my friend? Why don’t you like me?” I think he does like me. I don’t think he would be here if I was the problem. But then I can’t quite figure out what the problem is.

“So, how’s the Merry breakup going?”

“This is a thing nah-nah-now?” he answers. “The Merry b-b-b-br-bray-breakup?”

“Yeah. I like how it’s ironic.”

Blaine chuckles. “It’s … s-s-s-s-sort of terrible. I feel like mmmm-my parents are, are, are getting d-d-d-divorced.”

I nod and smile sympathetically. This breakup isn’t easy for anyone in the group, I can tell. It’s interesting to join a group of friends after they’re fully formed and to feel as accepted as I do with them. Everyone is equally sad to see Kerry go, sad to see Matt sad, and sad that an awesome couple like them is breaking up.

“So, what else is going on?” I ask, fully aware that this question will get me nowhere.

Blaine shrugs, smiles, shakes his head, and tightens his lips, as I could have predicted. “You?” he asks, gesturing towards me, handing all the responsibility of the conversation back to me.

I just have such a hard time understanding how he could be this self-conscious about his speech around me. I hear him talk all the time to other people. I know it makes me sound judgmental, it’s really not meant to be taken that way. It’s just, what is it about me? Am I not nice enough? Do I give off a weird vibe that only dogs and men who stutter can sense? Or perhaps I’m too sensitive about the situation. I wish I could come up with a solution for it. But for now I just try to be patient and take all of my cues from him. Luckily he does give cues, if you’re willing to look for them.

“Not much. I regret not taking a class this summer. It would have been nice to get a jump on my first semester of grad school,” I start. And then I keep going because I feel the need to fill the void. Luckily DiDi comes in soon after that, a whirlwind of apology, smelling like salon product.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” she exclaims, throwing herself onto the seat next to Blaine.

“Your hair looks, looks um, r-r-really good,” Blaine compliments.

“Thank you,” DiDi says, preening.

“I agree, you should blow it out more often,” I add.

“I know. I’m the laziest piece of shit when it comes to my hair though. Maybe now that it’s short I’ll be more willing to do something about it.”

“Me too. I’m s-s-s-so lazy,” Blaine jokes, pretending to sweep hair he doesn’t have behind his shoulders.

“You have gorgeous hair, my dear,” DiDi tells him.

“Thank you,” Blaine blushes.

“Really fantastic curls. Don’t you wish you had curls like that, D?” I say to her, reaching across to Blaine and giving one of the curls a gentle tweak. Maybe if I just assume comfort with him, he’ll start feeling more comfortable.

He smiles and dips his head, and I see his cheek twitch a little. The waitress interrupts then, and we all order, Blaine getting a chicken salad sandwich, DiDi and I ordering burgers.

“So, Blaine,” I say. “Forgive me if this is too personal.”

His head shoots up in alarm and the look of fear on his face is hard to ignore. He really is just that shy. He really is just this awkward around people. It’s not me. It’s him. In that moment, I promise myself I will do everything in my power to make him comfortable around me.

“What’s with you and chicken?”

He giggles and starts his story.

~~~~~

Several days later everyone is assembled at open mic night, to hear Matt’s send off for Kerry. When they’re done, they’ll go back to Matt and Blaine’s apartment for a goodbye party. Kerry’s parents will pick her up Saturday night to take her to the airport, where she’ll fly off into the sunset.

Blaine hasn’t felt this sad since Kurt left.

Matt speaks into the microphone. Blaine usually introduces himself these days, but his emotions are getting the better of him tonight, so he decided to let Matt take over.

“These song are all for Kerry, from me, except this first one, which is pure Blaine.”

Blaine smiles at her and winks and begins strumming the chords of “Saying Goodbye” from Muppets Take Manhattan.

Somehow I know, we'll meet again  
Not sure quite where and I don't know just when  
You're in my heart so until then  
Wanna smile  
Wanna cry  
Saying goodbye

He sings it plaintively and without the Miss Piggy falsetto and there’s barely a dry eye when he finishes.

Then it’s Matt’s turn. He’s selected all the best goodbye songs. He and Blaine discussed them and analyzed lyrics and came up with a list of four.

He starts with “I and Love and You” by The Avett Brothers.

One foot in one foot back  
No it don’t pay to live like that  
So I cut the ties and I jump the tracks  
For never to return

And moves on to “The Scientist” by Coldplay.

Nobody said it was easy  
It's such a shame for us to part  
Nobody said it was easy  
No one ever said it would be this hard  
Oh, take me back to the start

Follows that with “Save Tonight” by Eagle Eye Cherry.

There's a log on the fire  
And it burns like me for you  
Tomorrow comes with one desire  
To take me away....it's true

And ends with “Don’t You Forget About Me” by Simple Minds.

Slow change may pull us apart  
When the light gets into your heart, baby

When they leave the stage, they go back over to the group, first Kerry hugs Blaine, squeezes him so tight around his middle that his breath leaves him for a moment. He rubs her back and kisses her temple. When she extracts herself from Blaine, she throws herself at Matt.

She whispers, “I will never, ever forget about you. I promise.” The two stand there for a moment and Matt wills himself not to cry.

He’s not particularly in the mood for a party, but such is life.

~~~~~

The goodbye party was a quieter affair than usual. Kerry only wanted her roommates and her closest friends there. While no one would say they didn’t have fun, this gathering wasn’t so much about having fun, as it was about saying goodbye to Kerry.

Blaine goes home with Kurt, trying to comfort himself with the idea that at least his own relationship is intact. He tells Kurt this as they get into bed.

They inch towards each other, entwining their legs, hands on the other’s hip.

“I know,” Kurt sighs, after Blaine explains how he’s feeling. “I don’t envy either of them.”

“It sucks to be, be, be the one left,” Blaine says from experience.

“I’m sorry, poop.”

“Oh, no! That wasn’t mmmm-meant to make you feel bah-bad. I just really have a lot of empathy for Matt at the, the, um, the moment.”

Kurt nods seriously.

“Don’t be sss-surprised if I’m not around much the n-n-next couple weeks.”

“Yeah, I figured Matt would need some quality time.” Kurt trails his fingers up and down Blaine’s arm. “And how are you doing with it?”

“I’m okay. Gonna miss mmm-my friend. And my Blerry time,” he tells Kurt with a sad smile. “She gave me a note and, and, and made me promise not to rrrrr-ead it until she’s gone.”

Kurt chuckles. “Did she like the t-shirt you got her from the panini place?”

“Yeah,” Blaine says. “I think she really d-d-d-did.” He pauses, sucking in a deep breath. “I’m s-s-s-sad.”

“I know. I know,” Kurt brushes his mouth against Blaine’s, and Blaine nuzzles his face into Kurt’s neck.

They fall asleep, tightly holding each other.

~~~~~

Blaine-

I wanted to tell you a few things before I go, and I figured it would genuinely be easier for both of us if I just wrote them down.

Thank you so much for being my friend and for letting me be yours. It was your choice all along, and when you finally decided to let me in, you made me awfully happy. Your friendship means more to me than I think I could ever explain. It’s an honor that you allowed me into your world and that you trusted me enough over the past couple of years to be your confidante and your Tuesday night dinner companion.

I’ll miss you so much.

More than anything, I hope that no matter how things end with Matt and I, that you and I can remain friends indefinitely. Forever if I have it my way and you don’t get tired of me.

You are one of the kindest, funniest, most intelligent, and wonderful people I have ever met and I think my life would be lacking without your presence in it.

I’m sorry I have to go, but I really do believe I made the right choice. I really hope no one is too mad at me for leaving. It’s just something I have to do, you know? I hope you understand.

I’d really like it if you could do me a favor. Make sure Matt has fun? And don’t ever let him stop being Matt. I know you might not think you have control over these things, but you do. He respects you and trusts you. I think if he falls into a funk, you’ll be the one who can pull him out.

Also, don’t let Puck drag him around drinking and fighting for too long, no matter how sad he is.

And a little unsolicited advice from me to you. There are people all over this world who are trying to be your friend if you’d just let them. Try not to be so shy, try not to be so worried about the impression you’re making. I know it’s not easy for you, but you’re worth it. You’re worthy of their friendship, and you deserve it.

I’ll miss you! Please, please, please keep in touch!

Thank you for everything.

<3 Kerry

~~~~~

Matt’s staring vacantly at the tv when Blaine comes out of his room a couple mornings later.

“Hey,” Matt says, not turning his attention away from the screen.

“Morning,” Blaine yawns, as he pours himself a glass of orange juice. “I was thinking I-I-I might go out and get a b-b-bagel. You want one?”

Matt shrugs.

Blaine finishes his juice and puts the cup in the sink before sitting next to Matt on the couch.

“Why are you sitting so close?” Matt asks, dragging his eyes away from the infomercial that’s currently playing.

“Sometimes physical closeness can b-be emotionally comforting,” Blaine explains.

“Did you read the eHow article on emotional comfort?” Matt says, cracking a smile.

“Maybe,” Blaine shrugs.

That makes Matt laugh. “I’m okay, I swear.”

“The bags under your eyes b-b-b-betray you,” Blaine says. “And you don’t have to, to, to be okay. I mean, I won’t bother you, if you just w-w-want to be alone or whatever. But I’ve b-b-buh-buh-basically cleared my whole weekend to hang out with you and do whatever you want, so...”

Matt really looks at Blaine this time. And shakes his head. “So basically you told Kurt you were going to hang out with me instead of him? That’s pretty much how you ‘clear your weekend,’” Matt finger quotes the last phrase.

“No,” Blaine says petulantly. “I, I, um, I had to cancel a sp-sp-speaking engagement, and a sss-pa day, a d-d-dental appointment, and a trip to Disney World.”

Matt shakes his head. “You did all that for me?” he says, putting a dramatic hand to his chest.

Blaine nods, reverentially. “I would have done even mmmm-more, but there’s only so much fake shit you can pack into one w-w-weekend.”

Matt smiles. “Thanks, B.”

“Anytime.” Blaine pauses, and takes the remote from Matt. “I also dvr’d 18 hours of, of, of Mythbusters over the past 2 weeks.”

“Hell, yes. Did you say something about bagels?”

And Matt seems just a little more like himself already.


	14. Chapter 14

The 4th of July is on a Monday, so everyone heads out to Julia’s parent’s house on Long Island for the weekend. Her mom and dad are upstate for the next two weeks, and her older brother lives in Seattle, so the house is all theirs for the weekend. They’ve all been looking forward to it, and pretty much everyone was invited. Aside from the “usual crowd,” Sam and Finn drive out from Ohio, and two of Matt’s sisters, Erin and Katie, join them too.

And the general theme of the weekend is “cheer Matt up.”

Which shouldn’t be too hard because Julia’s house is awesome. Her parents left the fridge stocked, and there’s plenty of bedrooms. There’s a pool, a hot tub, and a deck in the yard, as well as a ping pong table in the basement.

As everyone roams around Friday evening, getting acquainted with the house, the only thing Julia says is, “Try not to stain anything!”

The night’s a little on the cooler side, but that doesn’t stop everyone from wanting to swim. They heat up the grill and have a cooler full of beer.

For the first half hour or so, Matt and Blaine challenge each other dive for dive, as the onlookers rate them. Matt loses though, when he can’t quite tuck in tight enough to get a full flip.

“Now who’s laughing at, at, at our 7 inch height d-d-difference,” Blaine chides as they dry off to have a burger.

“Eff you,” Matt says. “I’ll get you next time. I just need to limber up a little more. I’m old. My bones are creaky.”

“I’m like,” Blaine calculates in his head, “nine mmm-months older than you. And therefore you’re wrong.”

“Dammit.”

“Dammit, indeed.”

Later in the evening, Blaine is back in the pool, and Kurt sits in a lounge chair on the deck, huddled under towels, his sweatshirt zipped to his chin, hood up.

Blaine swims over the shallow end. “You should come in,” he tells Kurt.

“You say this as you stand there shivering, with your goosebumps bumping and your nips nipping.”

Blaine crosses his arms over his chest and makes a face.

“Then you should come in and, and, and w-w-w-warm me up,” Blaine pouts, glancing up at Kurt through his eyelashes.

“Damn you! You know that face is my kryptonite,” Kurt mutters, as he sheds his sweatshirt and kicks off his flip flops.

Kurt moves quickly into the pool which feels warmer than the air outside, and Blaine sinks into the water as Kurt approaches.

“Hi,” Blaine says.

“Hey, there,” Kurt replies. Their lips meet and Blaine sinks back against the wall, creating a seat for Kurt. Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s neck and lowers himself onto Blaine’s lap. They make out in the pool for a little while, going unnoticed by the rest of the group, who seem to be playing some kind of water polo/dodgeball hybrid. When Blaine takes a waterlogged nerf ball to the shoulder, they decide to retire to the hot tub, where they stay for more than the recommended 15 minutes.

Once they realize how long they’ve been in the hot tub, they find themselves a nice secluded deck chair, and spend the remainder of the night undisturbed.

~~~~~

The next day is spent entirely lounging inside and outside the house. They grill more burgers, they play ping pong, they swim, they cause a general ruckus.

After dinner, Puck has the genius idea to play truth or dare.

“If we’re going to play, I want to play it blind,” Julia says.

“Meaning...?” Sam questions.

“Everyone writes down two dares and two truths, and we put them in two separate hats. Then we pass the hats in a circl,e and you choose truth or dare. It works as an interesting kind of psychological warfare too, because you don’t have to look like a dick asking certain questions, but you also want to temper them, because you might be the one who who has to answer.”

“Oooooh!” Kurt exclaims. “I like this.”

Julia finds a pad of paper, and everyone finds a spot to write their truths and dares. Some people, like Blaine, hide in the corner to write theirs down. Others, like Matt’s sisters, sit on the couch and show their ideas to each other while they giggle.

When they’re done, they sit in a circle, and the hats are placed in the middle.

“We should start this clusterfuck with a shot, don’t you think?” Puck asks. Everyone agrees, and then they settle in to play.

“Who starts?” asks Tina.

“Youngest? Oldest?” Julia answers.

“Youngest,” Matt affirms, knowing that means Katie has to start it up.

She’s game. She picks a dare first, figuring she might as well get it out of the way.

“Let the person to your left draw on your face with washable marker,” she whines, turning to her left where Erin sits, a devilish expression on her face. “This is terrible.”

“Mwah-ha-ha-ha,” Erin says, lifting Katie’s chin to look at it in the light. “Where are these markers?”

Julia finds some in a drawer and Erin sets to work, drawing all over her younger sister’s face with vigor. When she’s done, it’s Julia’s turn. She goes for a dare, too.

“Take a body shot off of Matt,” Julia reads, putting her hand over her eyes. Turning to Matt she says “We really don’t have to do this. I will take whatever punishment anyone wants to dole out if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Matt looks at Erin, whose neck has turned red and is just barely containing a smile. “This was your doing wasn’t it?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Just trying to cheer you up,” she tells him, matter of factly.

“If this won’t cheer you up, I really don’t mind skipping,” Julia hedges.

He smiles at her. “Nah, let’s do this shit!”

Julia goes to the kitchen and comes back with a lime wedge and some salt. “Someone has conveniently already cut up a lime,” she says, throwing a look at Erin.

Matt remains seated on the floor and Julia kneels down in front of him. Julia puffs out a breath and glances around at the group at large, when she feels Matt’s hand on her arm.

“Are you nervous?” he asks, with a small grin.

“Um, maybe. I mean, it’s a little weird,” Julia says shrugging.

He rubs her arm and then exposes his neck to her, his face smug. She decides to just go with it, licking his neck, garnering a round of “ooohs” from the group. As she goes through the motion of taking the shot, she puts a steadying hand on Matt’s knee.

It happens in slow motion for her, she can feel the blush creep up her cheeks. She’s drunk enough that she leaves her eyes open as she leans in for the lime and so does he. She stays for a beat even though the wedge is in her mouth, he blinks and she pulls away.

The rest of the room comes back into focus.

Julia leans back, and Matt sits up straight. He licks his lips and swallows.

“You’re a champ,” he says to Julia as he high fives her. She smiles and settles back into her spot next to Finn, who pulls his own dare out of the hat.

“Shit!” he cries, when he reads it. “Brush your teeth and then drink orange juice. This is my dare. Don’t I get a do over or something?”

Julia just shakes her head, solemnly.

The hats are passed to DiDi then, who also chooses dare. She ends up having to let an ice cube melt in her pants.

Tina picks a truth. “Have you ever laughed so hard you peed your pants?” She makes a face, and taps her chin. “What the actual fuck is this question? But, um, yeah. I would say … Huh. I feel like my life has been devoid of that kind of laughter recently. I’m going with junior year of high school, when we started that food fight.”

The part of the group that is familiar with that day starts laughing and telling the story to the rest. The part where Finn hid behind his drum set like a little bitch elicits the most laughter. It’s a good moment to also pause and get more drinks. Matt’s up next and he chooses a dare.

“This is fantastic!” he yells, standing up, and reads dramatically. “Give a blowjob to a pickle.” His eyes go wide and looks at Blaine. “Fellatio!”

Blaine nods and smiles, and Matt runs into the kitchen to grab a pickle. He comes back in saying, “Which one of you gorgeous assholes came up with this dare? I need to know so I can hug your face.”

DiDi raises her hand.

Matt shakes his head, shoves the pickle in his mouth, and starts to slow clap.

“Not so much teeth!” Kurt cries in horror.

Matt giggles and pulls the pickle out. ‘“It’s not a real penis,” he tells Kurt earnestly.

“But I want to see a real blow job,” Kurt retorts.

“Kurt just got sassy,” Matt drawls. Then he gives the pickle a lick from one end to the other and lets out a moan.

Matt closes his eyes and works that pickle like nobody’s business. He licks around the tip, then puts it in his mouth and sucks.

Katie sits with her hands over her eyes. “I can’t watch this. This might actually scar me for life,” she says to no one in particular. She squeezes closer to her sister, who watches with rapt attention.

“How did you get so good at this?” Erin asks.

Matt holds up a finger, telling her to wait a minute. He deep throats it and then runs his tongue up and down it again, then up once more before biting off the tip. Every male in the room goes wide eyed and then winces.

He turns to Erin. “I learned it from Blaine,” he deadpans.

Blaine slaps a hand over his eyes.

“Blaine has never bitten the tip off my penis off,” Kurt says uncomfortably.

The girls are laughing hysterically at this point.

“I think we should move on,” Katie says.

It’s Blaine’s turn. He debates his level of inebriation. He’s not sure he’s drunk enough for a dare, but he’s also not sure he’s drunk enough to talk through a truth.

“I-I-I think I’m going with truth, but first, where, um, where did that b-b-b-bottle of tequila run off to?” He takes a shot and plucks the truth out of the hat, reading it and blushing.

He clears his throat. “Um. Tell us about your first crush.” He wipes his hands on his shorts and looks around. Kurt moves closer to him, pressing their shoulders together, and it’s just the little bit of contact that Blaine needs to tell his story.

“There was a girl.” He pauses and rolls his eyes, feeling so embarrassed, before focusing on his hands. “Emily, when I-I-I-I was in 7th grade, she was in mmmm-my science class. And, um. That was the first year we had to have lab partners, and, and, and, and she was new, so she didn’t have anyone to pair up w-w-w-with. So the first day of school, the teacher s-s-said that who you paired up with you would be partnered with for the r-r-r-rest of the year. And I, um, I kind of figured I’d just work alone be-be-because,” he shrugs and flicks his eyes around to the group, “well, because I, I, I um, always worked alone. In every class, on b-b-basically everything.”

Kurt rests his head on Blaine’s shoulder, and Blaine smiles at him. “But um, anyway. We ended up paired together and she ... was so nice to mmmm-me. She was so nice to me it m-m-made me want to go to, go to, go to school. And um, well,” he stops again, rubbing his neck.

Not everyone in this group knows everything about him, very few people do, but to finish this story, he needs to give them a little background. He presses on.

“I didn’t talk then. Like to anyone. I-I-I didn’t really talk at all for, for uh, for about a year. I’m not exaggerating. I just s-s-s-stopped talking. And during that year, she was the b-b-br-bright spot. I was too shy about my s-s-spah-speech to ever say anything to her, even after I-I-I started talking again. But she and I w-w-w-went to high school together too, and b-b-before we graduated, I slipped a note in her locker. Because I, I, I wanted her to know that … b-b-b-being nice to someone can sssss-sometimes make their whole year.”

“So, um. Yeah, that w-w-was that,” he finishes awkwardly.

Kurt squeezes his hand, and Matt pats his knee. Blaine looks over at Matt. “Would you like my pickle?” he asks, holding it out to Blaine.

Blaine chuckles. “I’m good, but I-I-I think I could use mmm-more to drink.” They break for booze and the bathroom and then return to their spots on the floor.

Kurt picks a dare.

“Oh man,” he says, his eyes blowing wide at the prospect. “Give someone of your choosing a hickey in front of everyone.” He smiles mischievously at Blaine. “How do you feel about a hickey, poop?”

Instead of saying anything, Blaine pulls off his shirt.

“Um, is that a yes?” Kurt asks.

“Oh, definitely. It just can’t be a, a, a visible hickey, I w-w-work with children. I-I-I was thinking like here-ish,” Blaine rubs a spot under his collarbone, and Kurt grins.

“I hope you all appreciate what I’m about to do,” Kurt says to the group.

“And the professional s-s-s-sacrifice I’m making,” Blaine adds. He leans back against the couch, and Kurt straddles him, threading an arm around Blaine’s neck, placing the other on his chest. Before dipping his head to Blaine’s clavicle, he turns to the group.

“You bunch of perverts,” he says when he sees them all watching intently. Except Finn. Finn is studying the ceiling fan.

Kurt starts with a light kiss to the spot that Blaine pointed out. And then darts his tongue out, moistening the skin. He nips the spot and then moves to kiss Blaine briefly, who smiles and sighs. Kurt’s mouth sucks a round mark onto Blaine’s skin, biting and then sucking some more, before licking it again, blowing a raspberry on it, and then kissing his cheek.

They hold each other’s gaze for a few moments, both smiling.

“Damn, boys,” DiDi says from behind them. “I need a cigarette.”

“Seriously,” Erin says. “Seriously,” she repeats, turning to look at DiDi.

Kurt turns back around to the group, though stays on Blaine’s lap. Blaine hooks his chin over Kurt’s shoulder and laces his arms around his waist.

Rachel sits there, mouth open. “That was amazing.”

Matt taps Kurt’s knee. “Would you like my pickle?” he asks.

Kurt just shakes his head and smiles, leaning back against Blaine’s bare chest.

The game moves on. Rachel taking a truth and having to discuss her first time with Finn. Puck accepting a dare that entails a lap dance for Matt, leaving the boys both blushing by the end. Though Puck is a decent lap dancer when you get down to it.

After Puck, it’s Sam’s turn. He takes a truth and has to talk about an embarrassing memory. Blaine gets up to get a drink during that answer. He’s not good with second hand embarrassment. When he gets back he settles onto Kurt’s lap and watches as the hats are passed to Erin.

Erin picks a dare and has to make out with someone for two minutes in front of the group. She looks around, and her eyes land on Sam sitting next to her. He’s cute, funny in a dorky way, and his lips are awesome, not to mention well moisturized.

And she’s been thinking about kissing him for basically the past 24 hours straight.

He looks at her, holding her gaze, and his cheeks go an attractive shade of pink.

“I wouldn’t mind helping with that dare,” Sam says, with a small shrug.

“Two minutes is a long time. Are you sure about this?” Erin teases.

“I’m in,” he says.

“Who’s timing it?” Erin asks.

Julia holds up her phone and sets the timer so that the alarm plays “Ode to Joy” when it goes off.

Erin moves closer to Sam and puts her legs over his lap. He gently pushes her hair behind her ear and dips his mouth to kiss her, his cheeks darkening, and his eyes sliding closed.

Blaine feels like he shouldn’t be watching this. Not because it’s gross or something, but because it suddenly feels too intimate. He looks around at the group, and he finds them all watching the makeout session with various amounts of interest. Puck, in particular, seems riveted by the couple in front of him.

For their part, Sam and Erin are completely oblivious.

Matt, on the other hand, can’t take it anymore, and throws himself onto Blaine’s lap for comfort, basically smothering Kurt on the bottom of the pile.

Matt hides his face. “I shouldn’t be watching this.”

Blaine just nods, though he doesn’t actually avert his eyes. It’s a good kiss. Blaine appreciates the mechanics of a good kiss.

“This is very uncomfortable,” Kurt groans, completely unable to move.

“I know!” Matt wails.

“No. I mean I can’t feel my legs,” Kurt says.

“Oh,” Matt rolls off Blaine, and Blaine slides off Kurt. “Sorry man. I was under major duress,” Matt tells Kurt.

“It’s okay. I’m having some fairly serious pins and needles, though” Kurt explains.

Blaine rubs the feeling back into Kurt’s feet.

The alarm goes off then, though neither Sam nor Erin seem to notice. The game continues on without them.

With the beginning of the second round, Julia makes an announcement.

“Whatever you picked the first round, you pick the opposite this round,” she explains and most of the participants groan.

First up, Katie has to talk about her first kiss, which much to Matt’s chagrin occurred with one of his friends behind the concession stand at the little league field when she was 11.

“Eleven, Katie! Eleven!” he cries.

“Oh, please, Matt. Stop trying to big brother me,” she says rolling her eyes.

Julia picks her truth and reads it aloud.

“Who in this room would you not want to be stuck in an elevator with?” She glances around. “Okay, well, this is totally not meant to be offensive or anything, but … I’d have to say Blaine.”

Blaine had been taking a sip from his beer and freezes, unable to look at the group, and feeling extremely exposed. He’s left his shirt off after the hickey and now he feels everyone’s eyes travel over to him. He rummages for his t-shirt on the couch and pulls it over his head.

Kurt speaks up. “Seriously? Blaine is shockingly level-headed in a crisis.” Kurt thinks of the time they were stuck on the subway for 30 minutes. Everyone else started freaking out, and Blaine sat there almost unphased, playing Angry Birds.

“Oh, well it’s not that. It’s just that he doesn’t really like me.”

Blaine looks up at that. “I like you,” he says confusedly.

She looks at him dubiously.

“I do!” he exclaims. “I swear. I just, um.” He shrugs, glances briefly at Kurt, and then looks back at Julia. “I sort of … feel like I st-st-stole all of Kurt’s friends. And now they’re our friends, but, but, but I-I-I-I thought like, he could have you. I dunno. It sounds dumb now. But, it has nothing to do w-w-w-with you.”

He smiles at Julia, who laughs.

“Oh,” she mouths with a smile.

“Also, I-I-I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a little b-b-b-bit shy around st-st-stra-strangers,” he deadpans.

“Well, then,” Julia says, sitting back, taking a long drink from the straw of her rum and coke. “I want to amend my answer. I wouldn’t want to get stuck in an elevator with Finn because he’s farted about 4 times during this game and that would just be rank to be stuck with in an enclosed space.”

“Hey!” Finn says, grabbing for the hat. “What is this? Unload on Finn night?”

“Maybe,” Sam mumbles, finally coming up for air from making out with Erin. His face is flushed. “Let’s go get a drink,” he says to Erin, grabbing her hand and drawing her off the floor. They stumble out of the room.

“We should place bets on when we’ll see them again,” Puck says.

The game moves on, Finn picks a truth. “How long have you gone without showering? I don’t know, like four days or something?”

Julia shakes her head. “I stand by my previous answer.”

DiDi has to talk about her secret ambition. “Well, I would like to find the way to get rid of the frizziness in my hair.”

“Have you tried keratin?” Katie asks.

“Yes! My hair literally rejected it. My hair is evil!” DiDi shouts.

Blaine and Kurt can’t look at each other for fear of laughter overtaking them.

Tina’s dare is to French kiss the person sitting to her right. She looks over to Matt.

“Just a kiss?” he asks. “No time limit or anything?”

Tina shows him the paper.

He nods.

“Are you sure you don’t mind? I would totally understand...” she trails off. She knows after she and Mike broke up in January she didn’t feel much like kissing anyone for a while. She wants to make sure this won’t upset Matt too much. His break up is so much more recent than her’s.

Before she can say anything else, Matt’s mouth is on her’s, and his tongue sweeps across her bottom lip. She her parts her lips just enough for their tongues to make contact, and he pulls away.

“See it was nothing? And I figured I could use a rebound kiss.” He says with a shrug.

Tina blushes. “Me too,” she confesses to Matt quietly when everyone’s attention is turned to Sam and Erin rejoining the group, red faced and smiling. “I needed a rebound kiss, too.”

He gives her shoulder a squeeze. “It wasn’t exactly a hardship.”

Matt’s truth is “If you found out you had 24 hours left to live what would you do?”

He thinks about it for a minute. “I would wish I could teleport, for starters, because there’s a lot of people I’d like to say goodbye to. Let’s say, for the sake of making the most of it, that I find out early in the morning and have access to a private jet all day, thanks to the Make a Wish foundation or something. I’d go out for breakfast with Blaine, and make sure he gets all the orange juice he wants.

“Freshly squeezed?” Blaine asks.

Matt nods. “Of course. Then I’d say goodbye to all you guys and head to Pittsburgh. I’d take my brother and sisters to our favorite Chinese buffet for lunch. I’d play catch with Ryan for a little while, making sure he knows that he can have all my guitars. Except for the Martin, which is for Blaine. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Blaine agrees.

“I’d try to see my friends from high school, anybody that happens to be hanging out around Pittsburgh, but I’m not flying all over the place. I’ll send them letters or something. Yes. I’ll write them letters while I sit on the plane from New York. Then I’d do something with my mom and dad. I don’t know what, something normal though. Nothing too sad. Maybe just sit at the kitchen counter and drink coffee and make fun of them for a little while. And then I’d have my private jet take me to Ecuador.”

He pauses, taking a long pull from his beer.

“And that would be that,” he mumbles. He clears his throat. “Blaine’s turn.”

Blaine pats Matt’s knee. “I-I-I could go get you another pickle?” he offers.

Matt laughs, a bit mirthlessly, and finishes his beer. “Who needs more booze?”

Pretty much everyone raises their hand, before standing and scavenging for drinks.

After everyone settles back in, Blaine picks his dare.

“Seriously. This is mmm-mean. There’s a shit ton of b-words in this dah-dare.” he says, shaking his head and hands the slip of paper to Kurt.

Kurt giggles. “Sing Baby Got Back while shaking your butt.”

“That was only three b-words,” Matt says. “And how was I supposed to know you’d pick that dare.”

“Will this cheer you up?” Blaine asks.

“Obviously, I’m not sure anyone else would be able to shake that ass like you could,” Matt says with a wink.

“I-I-I-I only know like 75% of the w-words to this ssss-song,” Blaine disclaimers as Matt hooks his phone up to the speakers. Blaine runs his hands through his hair. “Alright, let’s dah-do this.”

“Give me the signal when you’re ready,” Matt tells him.

Blaine points to him and he starts one of the best valley girl accents the world has ever known.

Oh, my, god. Becky, look at her butt.  
It is so big. She looks like,  
one of those rap guys' girlfriends.  
But, you know, who understands those rap guys?  
They only talk to her, because,  
she looks like a total prostitute, 'kay?  
I mean, her butt, is just so big.

Here Blaine pauses to slap his ass and looks over his shoulder at Kurt. Matt is rolling around on the floor, in the midst of hysterics.

Blaine continues the voice over and then when the song starts up, he really gets into it, grabbing a candle to use as a microphone.

When he gets to the lyrics about fellas, he pulls Kurt off the floor.

So, fellas! (Yeah!) Fellas! (Yeah!)  
Has your girlfriend got the butt? (Hell yeah!)  
Tell 'em to shake it! (Shake it!) Shake it! (Shake it!)  
Shake that healthy butt!  
Baby got back!

Pretty much from there the performance turns into a dance party, with Kurt slapping Blaine’s ass a lot.

When the song ends, the group drops back onto the floor, and Blaine hides his warm face in Kurt’s neck. Kurt runs his fingers along Blaine’s hairline.

“That was a amazing, poop,” Kurt whispers.

Blaine sits up and smiles, his cheeks pink, and his eyes glinting with laughter.

“It was fun,” Blaine says.

The game moves quickly after that. Kurt’s truth is about the last time he had sex.

“Well, Blaine and I kind of got each other off in the hot tub last night,” Kurt says smugly.

“Oh, good,” Julia remarks. “That’s … good.” And then she starts giggling with everyone else.

Rachel has to lick someone’s foot and after much thought says, “You know, this is a mean dare,” she says. “Not to mention the fact that it’s not going to be easy to find a willing participant.”

“You can lick my foot,” Puck tells her.

“Ew. You were wearing sneakers without socks and played basketball for three hours today. I think I’d like to lick Julia’s foot, if she doesn’t mind. I mean, we got pedicures earlier and I know her feet are relatively clean.”

“Cleaner than Puck’s,” Julia agrees. “Go for it.”

Puck gets a truth about whether or not he’s ever had public sex, and to talk about it if he has.

“Fuck yeah. Wait the most recent time? Or like the first time? Or like the most public time?” Puck asks.

“I’m going to say, most recent,” Julia answers, nodding.

“Rachel and I had sex in a dressing room at the Gap, like, fuck, when was that? Like two weeks ago?” he asks, turning towards Rachel.

Rachel covers her face and mumbles, “Yes, about two weeks ago.”

“It was good. Wall sex, ya know?” he shrugs.

Sam pulls his dare. “Take off your shirt,” he reads. “How is this a dare?” He pulls his t-shirt over his head. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night and was worried that it wasn’t appropriate.”

Erin pulls a truth. “The last lie I told?” She smirks over at Sam. “When I told you that I thought we should stop making out and go back to the group. That was a huge lie. That was like the worst lie ever. I still regret it,” she says.

He cups her face and starts kissing her. They tip over and end up half behind a chair.

Katie glances over at the couple and then back at the group. “I think this game is over,” she says. “I think I’ve seen enough of my siblings kissing tonight.” She pauses. “Kissing other people. At least they didn’t kiss each other.” She gives a full body shake. “I need to drink more or go to sleep.”

Most of the group wanders into the kitchen, eating chips, drinking more, laughing at each other.

“I can’t believe we made it through two rounds of truth or dare and no one went skinny dipping,” DiDi says. “I mean, there’s a pool directly outside.”

“I volunteer!” Blaine yells, at this point almost as drunk as he was on Matt’s birthday, shedding his shirt for the second time that evening.

He opens the sliding the door out onto the deck and closes it behind him, waving at everyone through the glass. He pulls off his shorts and walks over to the pool. He glances around him and then slides off his boxers, before executing a perfect sailor dive into the deep end.

When he comes back up, the rest of his friends are in various states of undress, preparing to join him, though most leave their underwear on.

“Hey, dumdum!” Blaine calls.

Kurt looks over at Blaine and smiles.

“How about b-b-b-before you jump in, you go find mmm-me a towel so that when it’s time to get out, I don’t have to w-w-wander around naked for too long.”

Kurt considers this request for a moment.

“Or how about you just wander around naked for a little while?” Kurt counters.

Blaine pouts and looks up at Kurt through his eyelashes.

“Damn you. I will get you a towel. But that look isn’t going to work on me forever!” Kurt shouts over his shoulder as he goes back into the house. He comes back moments later with a couple of towels and then jumps into the deep end by Blaine.

“No funny business!” Julia calls to them, as she gets ready to jump in herself.

The boys tread water and smile their most innocent smiles, while their hands drift to less than innocent areas.


	15. Chapter 15

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Tues, Jul 5, 10:08 pm  
Subject: hi!

So, I’m the music counselor at camp again this summer, and one of the tiny campers, like one of the going into kindergartners, looks so much like you I have to stop myself from squeezing her and taking her home and …

Wait. That’s kidnapping.

Scratch that.

Blaine

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Thurs, Jul 7, 7:13 am  
Subject: Weird dream

So I had a dream last night that you were here, and when I woke up and remembered you’re gone I was sad, and I missed you.

And I thought you should know.

Blaine

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Kerry  
Date: Thurs, Jul 7, 12:33 pm  
Subject: re: Weird Dream

BLAINE!!! I miss you so much!!!!

I’m sorry it took me awhile to get back to your last couple of emails. I don’t have access to internet regularly, but I will for the next few days. And I’m sorry your dream made you sad. :(

Things are good here, busy. And this is just orientation, I can’t imagine how much busier life will be when I’m actually doing something.

How is everyone? I hear from Julia and Tina a lot, but how’s everyone else?

Love, Kerry

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Thurs, Jul 7, 7:13 am  
Subject: re: Weird dream

I’m guessing by “everyone” you mean Matt. He got a job this summer giving campus tours and he comes home every night with the most ridiculous, and sometimes disturbing, stories. He’s good, Kerry. He seems happier the past week or so. He was obviously pretty sad for a while, but he’s more Matt-like recently. I’m a little bit surprised you haven’t heard from him. Send him an email when you have time, if you want, he’ll write back.

I really like my job this summer, even more than last summer. I feel happy there, comfortable. I think I might even be making friends with the other counselors, which I didn’t actually try to do last summer. I think I was just too nervous. But I’m less nervous now.

We had fun at Julia’s parent’s house last weekend. We got really drunk. And it wasn’t the same without you.

Love, Blaine

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Mon, Jul 11, 8:42 pm  
Subject: PACO’S

Kerry. They closed Paco’s Tacos, and I weep for the future.

And no one understands.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Thurs, Jul 14, 4:44 pm  
Subject: a warning

I’ve been thinking. I know you said you don’t always have internet access, but I might just keep writing emails to you. Sending my thoughts out into the ether. There’s a lot I want to tell you. And I like writing. I don’t think you’ll mind, but if you do and you get tired of opening your email and finding a dozen new messages from me, feel free to tell me.

And then I’ll cry.  
*  
*  
*  
*  
*  
JUST KIDDING!

I won’t cry.

Much.

Love, Blaine

~~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Kerry  
Date: Fri, Jul 15, 6:03 am  
Subject: re: a warning

Blaine, you silly goose, there’s nothing that delights me more than getting an email from you.

Write me dozens upon dozens of emails and make me laugh. Or just tell me about life, you don’t have to be funny. I would read anything you wrote. Write me books. That would make me happy.

I miss you guys so much, and I miss home, and every email you send makes me smile.

Love,  
Kerry

PS I would never want to make you cry.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Sat, Jul 16, 2:08 am  
Subject: Life.

I’ll write you dozens upon dozens of emails. I love writing emails.

Like, as much as I hated being away from Kurt, I actually missed having someone who I could write to. Which might sound weird, but I get a lot of thoughts out by writing. And I know I could keep a journal, but I would be afraid of someone finding it and reading it. That’s kind of dumb, considering I’m going to send you an email, with the intention that you’ll read it. But I guess somehow I like the idea that I’m giving you my thoughts. A specific someone, as opposed to a stranger stumbling upon a notebook I forgot at the coffee house that has all of my hopes and dreams in it. I don’t know why I would be writing in a journal about my hopes and dreams at the coffee house.

I digress.

I like writing to someone. I like writing to you. I like writing, period.

You’re one of the best listeners I’ve ever met, so I’m glad it’s you on the other end of this email.

Don’t ever feel like what I email you about is a burden though. Even if it gets angsty or sad or something, you don’t need to help fix me. Sometimes people try to fix me, but I don’t really need them to. You’re helping me just by letting me write to you. I guess that’s what my point is. I don’t want to bother you. I just want to know that somebody is maybe reading my words. But don’t feel like you *have* to read all of these words.

Does any of this make sense?

Do you think we would have been friends if you weren’t Matt’s girlfriend? (I’ve wanted to ask you that for almost two years.)

There’s a chance that I’m drunk right now.

I shouldn’t be emailing you when I’m drunk.

Love, Blaine

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Sat, Jul 16, 2:27 pm  
Subject: nooooooooooooooooo

The subject line is a reenactment of what I said when I realized that I hadn’t just dreamed about sending you an email last night.

I would like to apologize for drunk emailing you.

That email is embarrassing.

Sorry.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Sun, Jul 17, 9:28 pm  
Subject: Okay, I’m done being embarrassed now.

I still feel kind of stupid, and I wish I could get that email back, but alas, I’ll try to get over it.

I was going to say that not being able to retract an email is one of the flaws of technology, but then I realized you can’t really retract snail mail either. Because it’s a federal offense to break into a mailbox. But I guess you could stalk someone’s house? and steal it out of their mailbox or something. That would only work if you lived nearby. And then the question is, why would you be sending them snail mail anyway?

These are the questions I ask myself, Kerry. These are the questions that have no answers.

So yeah. How are you?

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Kerry  
Date: Wed, Jul 20, 4:08 pm  
Subject: re: Life.

First of all, why do I have no new emails from you from the past three days? If you’re going to use me as your journal you can’t just leave me hanging like that.

Second of all, no Blaine, you can’t stalk someone’s mailbox to take back a letter you wrote them. I have no idea if it’s a crime, but it’s undoubtedly creepy. Don’t do it.

Third of all, I think everything you said in your original email makes a lot of sense. About how you’re willing to tell a specific person certain things, but you wouldn’t want to let all your thoughts out someplace where anyone could find them.

Fourth of all, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. You once greeted me on behalf of your penis. I know what kind of drunk you are. Though time and again I’m impressed with your ability to type while intoxicated.

Fifth of all. And most importantly.

I don’t know if we’d be friends. I’d like to think we would be. I wanted to be your friend because I liked you, not because I was Matt’s girlfriend. Sometimes I wonder if you’re only friends with me because I was Matt’s girlfriend. Have you ever considered that, mister?

Honestly, given the situation, I have no idea.

I know you’re shy Blaine. I know your speech, particularly back then, when Matt and I were just getting together, was a nearly insurmountable obstacle in your mind. I tried to make it easy. I tried not to make you feel like you had to be my friend. But I liked you. I liked your friendship with Matt. More than that, I thought you were incredibly talented, and funny, and intelligent. I just knew you were also extremely shy. And I didn’t want to … harass you. :)

Before you finally started talking to me though, did you really think I was going to judge you? Was there something about me that you particularly didn’t like? I think, no, I know, sometimes you forget that other people think about you, and are concerned for you, and care about you.

I would like to think our friendship was inevitable, no matter what.

Love, Kerry

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Wed, Jul 20, 8:19 pm  
Subject: re: Life

Fine. I wasn’t emailing you the past couple of days because I was embarrassed. I’ll get my act together now.

And you’re right. I really don’t take into account how other people feel. In my head, it’s like “I won’t talk to them unless they talk to me first. And even if they do talk to me, maybe I won’t talk to them because they probably don’t really like me. They probably just feel bad for me and think I’m a weirdo. If I do talk, it’ll take too long, and they’ll get bored, or maybe they’ll make fun of me. Does it look like they’re making fun of me in their head? Why did they just smile? I’m not being funny. Is there someone behind me? Making fun of me? I have to hide now.”

You know?

Are you happy now that you’ve seen into the inner workings of my weirdo brain?

Also, we played truth or dare 4th of July weekend, and Julia got a truth asking who in the room she wouldn’t want to be stuck on elevator with, and she said me. And I felt really bad, because within like 10 seconds, I had decided that she didn’t like me. I figured it’s my speech, and I’m annoying, and that no matter how hard I try I can never quite be okay enough for people to want to talk to me.

Which is so fucking dumb when you think about it, because that room was full of people who like me. Even if Julia was the lone dissenter.

So, Kurt said something about how I’m really level-headed, and I couldn’t quite bring myself to even pay attention, because of course I was embarrassed. I was trying to figure out if there was a way to melt directly into the floor. (There is no way to accomplish that, in case you were wondering. I’ve googled it at least a dozen times during my life.)

But then she said that it had nothing to with that, and it was because she thought I didn’t like her. Which to me, is just so dumb. Because of course I like her. Why wouldn’t I like her?

And then I realized I’ve never done anything to indicate that I like her. And even though I was really drunk that night, I kind of filed that thought away in the back of my mind to toy around with at some point.

I always forget that friendship is a two way street. I always forget that when I’m feeling bad, or worried, or nervous, the other person might be feeling the same way.

We resolved it quickly that night. Because the only reason I had been sort of avoiding her was because I wanted her to be “Kurt’s friend.” I have it in my head that I kind of … stole all of his friends? Like that’s great and now we’re all friends, but sometimes it’s nice to have a friend to yourself. Like Kurt and Matt would never hang out without me, and I figured I would just keep it so Julia and I wouldn’t hang out without Kurt.

But in doing this, apparently, I made her feel like I didn’t like her. Which is so weird, because I mostly like everyone. (I wasn’t going to write this, because it’s kind of sad/dorky, and because I kind of can’t handle the judgment, or the judgment I perceive, or the possible pity that you might feel for me when you read it. But, I mostly like everyone who isn’t mean to me. They don’t even have to be *nice* to me. If they’re not outright mean to me, I like them.) I never even considered the fact that she might think I didn’t like her though. Never once did it cross my mind.

And I think even if it did cross my mind, I would have thought, “Well, of course I like her. Who am I to not like anyone? What right to I have to dislike someone as perfectly nice as Julia?”

My introspection is exhausting me, I can only imagine how you feel about it, so I shall bid you adieu. Until tomorrow my friend.

Love, Blaine

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Thurs, Jul 21, 10:52 pm  
Subject: Day 1

I am now going solemnly swear to write you an email a day, at least for the rest of the summer. I make no promises that I’ll keep it up when school starts, and I have to *GULP* student teach, but I’m going to do my best for the rest of the summer.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Fri, Jul 22, 7:17 pm  
Subject: Day 2

I have nothing to report.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Sat, Jul 23, 3:07 am  
Subject: Day 3

I FEEL LIKE I’M CHEATING BUT I REALIZED IT’S DAY THREE AND I HAVEN’T GONE TO SLEEP YET AND I’M SUPER DUPER DRUNK.

[PS. Kurt says “heyyyyyyyyy.”]

[PPS. Kurt says he didn’t say it like that.]

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Sun, Jul 24, 12:08 pm  
Subject: Day 4

I love crepes.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Mon, July 25, 7:02 am  
Subject: Day 5

Today I’m going to talk to three people besides campers.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Tues, Jul 26, 7:09 am  
Subject: Day 6

It worked yesterday, so today I’m going to talk to FOUR people besides campers.

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Kerry  
Date: Tues, Jul 26, 9:17 pm  
Subject: re: Day 6

I hope you talked to your allotted number of people today, Blaine.

It’s interesting, what you said about Julia. She would mention sometimes to us that she thought you didn’t like her, and we would all be like “Julia! It’s Blaine! He doesn’t talk.” But I never really thought much about why you might be avoiding her. I think I understand why you felt like taking a backseat, and letting her and Kurt be friends. But there’s no reason *not* to be friends. Not if you both want to be. Something tells me Kurt isn’t exactly crying himself to sleep every night because you “stole” his friends. I think he probably loves how integrated into his life you’ve become.

You guys have a sort effortless relationship, at least from an outsider’s perspective. I know you’ve had your issues in the past, but there’s something about how you care about each other, and how you listen to each other, that is sort of awe-inspiring. You’re lucky, Blaine.

Getting back to the glimpse into your “weirdo brain,” no one thinks about any of that stuff as much as you do. Obviously your introspection stems from your intelligence and your introversion, and I think I’m dipping into psychoanalysis territory that I’m not certified to dip into.

I’m very sorry that anyone, anywhere, has ever been mean to you, Blaine. So very sorry on behalf of the human race.

Love,  
Kerry

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Wed, Jul 27, 5:37 pm  
Subject: Day 7

Thank you for apologizing on behalf of the human race. It’s really, really not your fault.

It’s taken me a long time to realize it’s not my fault either.

I talked to six people today. SIX PEOPLE. Although one of them was the barista at the coffee place, and I don’t know if that counts. Because I was ordering coffee. It was a business trip, not a social call.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Fri, Aug 5, 7:04 am  
Subject: Day 16

TONIGHT IS THE CAMP SLEEPOVER AT THE BRONX ZOO, AND I THINK I’M MORE EXCITED THAN ANY OF THE CAMPERS.

DEFINITELY MORE EXCITED THAN ANY OF THE OTHER COUNSELORS.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Sat, Aug 6, 11:58 am  
Subject: Day 17

Holy shit. I’ve never been so tired in my entire fucking life.

Sleeping over at the zoo is not nearly as much fun as it sounds. Zoo animals make weird noises, and they keep kids up all night. I ended up having a dozen small children basically sleeping on top of me because one of the wolves howled.

But I still love the zoo, Kerry.

THEY CAN’T STEAL MY LOVE FOR THE ZOO.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Sun, Aug 7, 8:09 pm  
Subject: Day 18

I decided I hadn’t had enough animal encounters this weekend, so I made Kurt take me to the aquarium at Coney Island today. I’m afraid of the squid. I feel like it can read my mind. I was also slightly traumatized on a class trip when I was in first grade, and I accidently got left behind in the octopus exhibit, and I couldn’t find the exit.

And by “slightly,” I mean COMPLETELY.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Tues, Aug 9, 11:22 pm  
Subject: Day 20

I haven’t asked how you are lately.

How are *you* Kerry?

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Kerry  
Date: Wed, Aug 10, 1:47 pm  
Subject: re: Day 20

I’m happy to have some time on the internet.

I’m happy that the sun is shining and that the birds are chirping.

I’m happy to have a breeze today.

I’m happy to say that I’ve been making friends, and really starting to feel like I belong.

I’m happy that I don’t ever regret my decision to do this.

I’m sad sometimes, and I miss you and all of our friends.

I cry every once in awhile, when I let myself think about Matt.

But mostly Blaine, I’m satisfied. I get up in the morning and I jump out bed. I look forward to what awaits me. I don’t linger on the bad feelings, and I don’t let myself wallow. This was my decision, and I’m owning it.

All in all, I’m good.

How about you?

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Wed, Aug 10, 9:53 pm  
Subject: Day 21

All of that information, (aside from the two sad things) made me fist pump on your behalf. I’m happy that you’re happy. I’m happy that you’re satisfied. I’m happy for you, Kerry.

I, personally, am fantastic. I went out tonight for a couple drinks with my camp counselor friends. It was fun. They’re fun, and it’s nice to have people who know the kids to vent to.

Like there’s this one girl, a fourth grader, Claudine, and I was feeling really bad because I just kept thinking about what a bitch she is. And I was like “Really? How can a 9 year old be a bitch?”

Turns out everyone thinks she’s a bitch.

Although, I sort of wonder what’s going on in her life that makes her a bitch. I mean, kids aren’t born jaded, angry, and mean. I think there has to be something in your make up, a predisposition to those traits, but I don’t think you can be born that bitchy.

So, then I start to wonder, and worry.

I try to kill her with kindness. It’s not working yet, but I’m hopeful.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Sat, Aug 13, 4:48 pm  
Subject: Day 24

In case you were wondering, I’m still mourning the untimely demise of Paco’s Tacos.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Wed, Aug 17, 9:01 pm  
Subject: Day 28

The panini place went out of business, too. I think we were basically keeping all of these places in business single handedly.

~~~~~

 

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Mon, Aug 22, 8:09 pm  
Subject: Day 33

Yep. Claudine’s a bitch.

She actually made fun my stutter today.

That kid is a world class bitch.

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Kerry  
Date: Wed, Aug 31, 6:18 am  
Subject: re: Day 33

I know I’m really late to the party on this one, and I’m sorry about that, but seriously!?!?

What a bitch!!

What did you do???

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Wed, Aug 31, 4:56 pm  
Subject: Day 42

For starters, I chalked it up to a good professional experience. Because it’s probably not the last time I’ll ever deal with something like that.

And I dropped into something of an impersonation, just to get through the moment.

She repeated something I said, with the stutter intact, and the other kids giggled a lot, I think (I hope) more out of discomfort than actually thinking Claudine was funny.

So I said, “Time out guys. Do you really think that’s funny?”

And they all sort of froze.

“Do you think it’s funny that Claudine just made fun of the way I speak?”

They all shook their heads really quick, and Claudine looked at them like they were a bunch of Brutus’s.

“I told you from the beginning, that sometimes I have trouble talking, but it doesn’t mean I’m not smart or nice. And you guys all asked questions, and I answered them honestly.”

They’re all nodding. I’m stuttering a bit here and there, but for the most part I have the situation under control. I’m about to let the subject drop, when one of the other kids, Maria, turns to her and says, “You know, you should really apologize to Blaine.” And all the other kids nodded.

And she apologized!

Quite frankly, it was sort of the best situation I could have asked for. I want to bottle the feeling and save it for when things in my life feel like they’re falling apart. So that I remember that I can handle this stuff, and come out the other side looking like the bigger person. It was really sort of awesome, and I can almost (almost, not quite) say I’m glad it happened.

Of course, it’s also easier to talk about a week and a half later, which is why I didn’t write out the whole story at first. It was too close, and it still stung too much. But now. Now I’m feeling pretty okay about it.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Mon, Sept 5, 11:33 pm  
Subject: Day 47

I start student teaching tomorrow.

I’m really nervous.

I was stuttering a lot today. More than I have in months, and that’s not helping.

What if I mess up? Or do something wrong?

Or what if my speech is so bad that no one knows what I’m saying and I get so nervous that I throw up in the middle of my first day and I can’t be a teacher and I have …

I have some anxiety.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Tues, Sept 6, 10:02 pm  
Subject: Day 48

That went much worse than I ever could have imagined.


	16. Chapter 16

Blaine lays on his bed, starting at the ceiling, trying not to feel like the world is crushing his spirit.

He’s spent his 22 years, 3 months, and 6 days on this planet trying so hard not get his spirit crushed. He’s learned to focus on small victories, to keep his eye on the prize, to walk on the sunny side of the street, as DiDi would say. He tells himself over and over again, that he can do it. He lets things roll off his back, he smiles even when it goes against every instinct he’s ever had.

But today.

Today might just get the better of him.

It started off well enough.

There was orange juice in the fridge, and Lucky Charms in the cabinet, and plenty of milk to drown them in.

Kurt had taken him shopping over the weekend. He helped him pick out the perfect first day of school outfit. Much to Blaine’s protests, Kurt paid for the clothes.

“I want you to look nice, and neat, and professional. And it’s like my good luck gift to you,” Kurt explained as they stood in line.

Blaine was so moved by Kurt’s sentiment that all he could do was kiss Kurt’s cheek and thank him over and over again.

Now this morning he pulls on his tailored navy blue chinos, with his light blue checked shirt, and the navy tie with just a bit of texture. All Kurt approved, all helpful in making Blaine feel confident. Not to mention, nice, neat, and professional. He smiled at himself in the mirror, grabbed him leather messenger bag, and marched off into the abyss.

And now here he is, 9 hours later, on the verge of tears.

He shoves the heels of his hands into his burning eyes. He just doesn’t want to cry. Not yet. He wants Kurt to be there to hold him when he lets it out. He needs Kurt to hold him up, because if he starts crying right here by himself, he’s not sure he’ll ever stop.

The hard part is there’s nothing Blaine could have done differently to make the day go more smoothly. To any observer, it might have looked like it even went well. But it didn’t. He rolls over and presses his face in his pillow when the door buzzes.

He runs into the living room, presses the button, and calls down. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me!” Kurt’s voice says through the static. Blaine pushes the other button, and unlocks the door, leaning on the door jam and waits for Kurt.

He takes off his tie and shirt while he waits, revealing his white undershirt. He tosses those clothes on the couch behind him, and is in the process of yanking his socks off when Kurt comes bounding up the stairs.

“Hiya! I got out of work early. I had a couple of comps hours saved up. So I thought I’d surprise you on your first day,” Kurt explains, breathlessly. He kisses Blaine, and then looks him over. “What are we doing? Is it already time for celebratory sex? Can I have some water first?”

Blaine stands back to let Kurt in, who drops his bag on the floor by the couch and goes into the kitchen in search of liquid refreshment. Blaine gestures to his bedroom, and when Kurt has his glass of water in hand, he meets him in there.

Where he finds Blaine face first on the bed.

Kurt settles next to him and rubs his hand on Blaine’s back.

“Hey, poop, what’s up?”

Blaine shakes his head.

“Blaine.” Kurt’s worried now. “Blaine come on, sit up. What’s wrong?”

Blaine sits up, because he can’t stand to hear the worry in Kurt’s voice. He knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he needs to tell Kurt about his day, that it will make him feel better, that things won’t seem as bad once he talks about it.

But for the first time in a very long time, Blaine doesn’t feel like he can talk.

He’s having all of his old problems, where the words scramble around in his brain, and his mouth won’t work. His tongue is too big, and his chest is tight.

He looks at Kurt, and smiles weakly, getting his thoughts in order.

“I-I-I-I-I-I,” Blaine’s throat constricts, and his neck jerks, the block continues. He looks away from Kurt, down at the bed, at his hands tangled and gripping wildly at his comforter. He hasn’t had trouble talking to Kurt in years. Literally years at this point.

Kurt puts his hand on Blaine’s neck, his thumb running gently along his jaw.

Blaine cuts the block, and clears his throat.

“Sorry,” he whispers, his voice harsh.

“Hey, Blaine, look at me,” Kurt says.

Blaine’s face is angry, his lips a tight line, his eyes dark.

Kurt laces his fingers behind Blaine’s neck, and kisses him. He shifts on the bed, so he can put his legs loosely around Blaine’s waist. Blaine relaxes his fingers on the bed, and places them on Kurt’s thighs. His head is clearing, his mind focusing, pinpointing, zeroing in on Kurt. How much Kurt loves him, how today matters in some ways, but not in other ways, because Kurt loves him.

When Kurt pulls away from Blaine’s mouth, he moves his hands to Blaine’s face.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I want to listen to you. Always,” Kurt tells him sincerely.

Blaine nods, running his hands up and down Kurt’s thighs, slowly.

“What can I do?” Kurt asks. He hasn’t seen Blaine like this … ever. Because back when Blaine still had trouble speaking in front of Kurt, he was never this comfortable physically around him. So to be wrapped around Blaine, so close, but have him unable to speak, is foreign to Kurt. He doesn’t know how to help.

He’s on the verge of scared.

Because whatever happened had to be bad.

“Can I try to guess?” Kurt asks.

Blaine smiles weakly and shrugs.

Kurt tries to read his mind.

“Was someone mean to you at work?”

Blaine shakes his head.

“Did you have a problem with one of the kids?”

Blaine gives a thumbs down.

“With a parent?” Kurt knows that’s a long shot, seeing as how it’s the first day of school.

He draws an “N-O” on Kurt’s thigh.

“Was Claudine there?” Kurt asks, eyes going wide.

That makes Blaine laugh and Kurt relaxes a bit.

Blaine leans over, grabbing a notebook and a pen out of his bag on the floor. He writes something and hands it off to Kurt. Kurt shifts a bit, sliding their bodies farther apart, so they have room in between them to read and write, but still keeping his legs thrown over Blaine’s legs.

I can’t talk today.

What do you mean you can’t talk today?

Well, I mean, I held it together, pretty much did an impersonation of myself for the past 9 hours, and spoke as little as humanly possible.

I don’t get it.

I think I’m having a speech relapse.

Oh. Fuck.

Fuck indeed.

How do you know?

I can’t talk. I opened my mouth this morning, and there were no words. I worked through all of my usual strategies. Nothing was working. I was nervous, but not that nervous. I was a manageable amount of nervous. But like, by the time I had to do a weird voice just to get some words out, I was on my way to Panic Attackville: population Blaine.

I’m trying to understand. So you blocked a lot?

Kind of? But that’s not quite it. It was more like, my mouth wasn’t working. Like, I know how to work through blocks, even bad ones. It was like my speech didn’t even get to the point of a block, my voice just wasn’t there.

How does that happen though? And what the hell did you do about it???

Luckily, there wasn’t much to do today. The music teacher, Karen, she gave me some text books to look through that she uses with the older kids. Specials don’t start until the second week of school, so she was just getting organized today. She introduced me to people, so I didn’t have to try with my name.

Did you tell her about your speech?

No.

Blaine.

I know.

That would probably help.

I know you’re right. She would chat with me, and usually I can do small talk these days. Not today. Today I couldn’t talk.

But like, you could talk yesterday.

I know! But I was stuttering a lot yesterday. And the day before that. And pretty much for about the past two weeks, if I’m being honest with myself.

Really?

Yeah. I guess I wasn’t stuttering much around you. But, I had trouble ordering coffee, I had trouble skyping with my mom. Stuff that’s been easy for me, suddenly isn’t. And stuff that was always hard has suddenly become impossible.

Why didn’t you say anything?

I think I was hoping it wasn’t real.

So, what do you do now?

Well, what I should have done today was be more upfront about my stutter. I should have advertised it and then done a bunch of easy voluntary stuttering. Instead, I was trying to keep my speech on its best behavior, and I think that’s part of why it rebelled.

Maybe you should get in touch with Chad?

Yeah, maybe. I think I need to see if I can get through this week. A couple months ago, Chad and I were talking about mind over matter situations, this might be a time for that.

Yeah, but the rest of your life can’t be a mind over matter situation.

I know. I think I just need to see how this week goes.

Okay. How can I help?

Hmm. Maybe you can kiss me some more?

Oh man, I don’t know. Your face is so ugly, and your eyes are the color of sewage.

In the middle of writing this, Blaine’s mouth finds Kurt’s ear.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too,” Kurt whispers back.

He pushes Blaine onto the bed. And Blaine puts his arms under his head.

“What time does Matt get home tonight?”

Blaine holds up eight fingers.

“Perhaps a blow job would relax you?”

Blaine nods enthusiastically.

~~~~~

The blow job helps. There’s no denying it. Blaine’s more relaxed after it, able to get his mouth working a bit. Later on, he and Kurt shower, and Kurt calls for takeout.

They eat dinner, Matt comes home, they hang out for a bit, and then crawl into bed at a reasonable hour.

They lay on their sides facing each other, whispering before falling asleep, like they would do any time they share a bed.

“Do you know what today is?” Kurt asks.

“The w-w-w-worst d-d-d-dah-day ever?” Blaine answers.

Kurt smiles and shakes his head. “It’s the two year anniversary of our pseudo-diner date.”

Blaine smiles, calculating the date in his head, thinking back to that day. His smile fades. He sits up and puts his head his hands, taking deep soothing breaths. How did he get here? He’s worked so hard over the past two years, how did he fuck up this badly? He didn’t mean to let his speech get the better of him again.

Kurt sits up next to him.

“Whoa, poop,” Kurt murmurs, rubbing circles on the bare skin of Blaine’s back. “This wasn’t supposed to upset you. I just wanted to point it out to you. To show you how far you’ve come, how far we’ve come. You’re not all the way back at the beginning.”

“I-I-I-I know, I-I-I know,” Blaine sniffles. He doesn’t even know when he started to cry. He’s so frustrated. “It’s s-s-s-s-so hard, Kurt. I-I-I-I-I-I dah-dah-don’t talk about, about, uh, how hard it’s b-b-b-b-b-b-buh-been, and n-n-n-now it’s like I-I-I-I-I let it, it, it, it, it ... ssssssss-lip away. It w-w-w-was so close.”

Kurt is momentarily at a loss for words.

“This is w-w-w-w-wah-wah-what f-f-f-f-falling to shit looks like,” Blaine mutters, recalling their conversation from last year. “Fuck. I-I-I-I never s-s-s-st-st-stuh-stutter on f’s anymore.”

Kurt leans his head on Blaine’s arm. “No. This is what perseverance looks like.”

Blaine scoffs.

“No, stop it.” Kurt’s voice is firm, but kind. “Not once have you said anything about quitting. Not once have you said anything that resembles giving up. Sure you’re upset, this sucks. This fucking blows. But it doesn’t mean you’re not going to come out the other side. You can do this.” Kurt shrugs. He feels Blaine’s arm snake around his waist, and Kurt smiles.

That’s Blaine’s way of telling him he’s listening.

“You can do this,” Kurt repeats, quietly, gently.

“I-I-I-I-I-I can,” Blaine agrees. “I r-r-r-r-r-really dah-dah-don’t w-w-w-want to.”

“I know poop, but you’re gonna have to suck it up. We all have to do shit we don’t want to do.”

Blaine makes a sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh.

“I mean seriously. I have to put up with your poophead every day of my life. And it gets old. You have no idea.”

Blaine lays back down, and Kurt follows, resting his head on Blaine’s chest.

“I have to put up with your dumbass all the time,” he whispers, running his fingers through Kurt’s hair. “It’s just so dumb and perfect.”

“I suppose these are our crosses to bear.”

Soon after that, both boys fall asleep.

~~~~~

Kurt is awakened several times by Blaine’s muffled groans, and can see in the dim light how distressing whatever’s going on in his brain. His eyes are screwed shut, his mouth a thin line, his forehead streaked with sweat. Kurt pulls him closer, kissing his temple, and murmuring soothingly. He wishes Blaine would wake up. Maybe that would end his cycle of dreams. But he doesn’t. He’s deep into this, and Kurt is helpless to stop it.

In the morning, Blaine knows it’s going to take a lot to get through the day. He wakes tired and foggy.

He rolls over, and Kurt’s there, smiling at him.

“Morning,” Kurt says.

“M-m-m-morning,” Blaine squeezes out.

Kurt runs his hands through Blaine’s hair. “You were having some pretty crazy dreams last night weren’t you?”

Blaine nods. “My mmmmm-mouth was s-s-s-sewn shut.”

“Could I still kiss you, even though your mouth was sewn shut?” Kurt asks.

“You, you, um, you w-w-w-w-weren’t there,” Blaine explains.

“Well, that’s the good news then. I’m here now.”

Blaine laces their fingers together. “I know,” he whispers.

~~~~~

Blaine walks Kurt back to his apartment to get ready for work. Luckily Kurt doesn’t have to be there until 10.

They hold hands while they walk, but their chatting is cut down by how reticent Blaine is to speak.

Before they part, Kurt pulls him in for a long, warm kiss.

“You’ll be fine. Push through, mind over matter,” Kurt says with grin as they part.

Blaine inhales deeply and bobs his head.

When he turns to leave, Kurt gives him a swift slap on the ass.

Blaine spins around and smiles brightly, genuinely.

“Thanks … f-f-for that,” Blaine says, trying to ignore the twitch in his cheek.

Blaine gives himself a pep talk while he walks. He can do this. He’s been doing this. He can speak, he can do it. And even if he stutters, it doesn’t matter. He knows how to communicate effectively inspite of his stutter. He doesn’t have to feel bad about his speech.

He repeats these mantras over and over again.

He promises himself if today is as bad as yesterday, he’ll get in touch with Chad, and they’ll come up with a solution.

~~~~~

For the second day in a row, Blaine’s spirit is on the verge of being crushed.

Things didn’t go any better today. His speech is still rebelling. He was tired and frustrated. Luckily all he had to do today was observe a couple of classes, and continue helping Karen get organized. There was very little speaking involved. Though the few times he had to talk, he fell into all of his old habits, avoiding words, hand gestures. But he really did try to voluntary stutter, and he did advertise his speech to Karen. So maybe he’ll count that as two victories, maybe he doesn’t need to talk to Chad.

Karen was kind about his stutter, patient and smiling. Blaine felt seriously awkward, but he got through it. At least that went smoothly.

Unfortunately, instead of going home and wallowing this afternoon, he has work. He worked it out with Sarah that he would be half an hour later than usual on the three days a week that he works. She was understanding about it.

When he gets there today, Sarah has everything set out, and the kids are getting ready to eat snack. They bring their own snacks, and can bring their own drinks, but the school provides milk for everyone in the program. Blaine starts handing out the cartons as soon as he gets into the gym.

Even though it’s a new school year, and his first day of work since June, Blaine knows most of the kids already. There are a few kindergartners though, and one little girl in particular catches his attention.

She’s small, sitting alone, not looking at anyone. She plays with a matchbox car on the table, running it back and forth. As he approaches her to ask if she wants milk, he hears the small “zoom, zoom” noises she’s making. He smiles, thinking that he wasn’t that different as a kid. He’s not really that different as a grown up, truth be told. In a roomful of strange peers, he’d rather sit at the table and play with a matchbox car, for sure, if he were given the option.

Before he makes it to the table, Sarah intercepts him.

“Hey, how are you?” she asks, face bright and interested, inspite of the chaos around them.

“F-fine,” he says.

“How’s student teaching?”

He shrugs, he certainly doesn’t want to get into it right now. He’s not entirely sure he could get into it right now.

“It’s … gah-gah-good. Not, not, not, um, not too hard,” he wants to say more, but it’s better to leave it at that.

She gives Blaine a quick pat on the shoulder. “Awesome. So, couple of new kids.” She points out a few, giving him a brief rundown, names, grades, one of them has a peanut allergy. “And behind us is Cassie. Yesterday she was really unhappy about the milk,” she pauses, and glances pointedly at the carton in Blaine’s hand, “but aside from that, she was great. She’s autistic. Her communication is fine, but she's pretty anti-milk.”

Blaine nods. They’ve had autistic kids in the past, this isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with.

“Didja ask-her?” he says quickly, puffing the words out, slurring them, but at least not stuttering.

“No time, man. You know how the first day is.”

“Are you, you, um, you trying to mmm-make me fah-feel b-b-b-b-bad for not be-be-being here yesterday?” he asks, teasingly.

“Maybe,.” she says with a smile. “Hence why it’s your job to figure this out today. You’re my kid whisperer. It’s why I keep you around.”

He nods and winks, suddenly feeling a lot more in control of his life. Not so much in control of his speech, but Sarah isn’t looking at him weird, even though he was just full of repetitions while they were chatting.

She moves on to stop an almost fight over a dodgeball, and Blaine makes his way to the table. He sits down across from her, not wanting to invade her space.

He puts the milk on the table, and she glares at it.

“Hey, I’m … Blaine,” he tells her, his stutter of course gone without a trace in this situation, even on his name. He takes a moment to feel relieved that maybe through this relapse, he’ll still be able to talk to kids without a problem.

She looks at him, briefly, and then glares at the milk carton again. She continues running the matchbox car across the table. She smiles, almost devilishly, and then starts running the car into the carton, and saying “Whee!” over and over again.

He watchers her for a minute, sort of enjoying her act of defiance. He might have done something similar as a kid, if he didn’t feel like talking. And he never really felt like talking.

“So, you, um, don’t like milk?” he asks, trying not to smile.

She parks the car neatly next to the milk. She moves her pinkie around her face. At first he thinks she’s trying to pluck hair out of her mouth of something. And then it dawns on him.

She’s signing juice.

“Hmm. We don’t have any juice, just milk. But ...” he stands up and goes in search of her backpack. They keep all the kids backpacks in a certain spot, so they’re easy to find when their parents come to pick them up. He looks inside and finds her lunch box, with a juice box inside. It has a post it stuck to it, with a happy face in red ink.

He chuckles.

Blaine goes back to the table, pops the straw in, and places the juice in front. She claps, and giggles, and swings her legs under the table.

“Yay!” she says as she takes a sip.

Blaine goes to check on other kids for a little while, feeling like he’s accomplished another small victory today.

A little while later, he has a moment to glance around for Cassie again. Now she’s sitting dully, inhaling and exhaling into her empty juice box, running the same car lazily in circles. He has another idea.

They have a box of cars stashed somewhere, he thinks. He goes to find it and then brings it over to her, enticing her with it. When he has her attention, she hops off the bench and follows him to an empty spot on the floor, where she won’t get trampled by the other kids playing.

He dumps the box, and she immediately throws herself on her stomach and starts lining up the cars. He asks her where certain cars should go, and she helpfully points out their intended locations. Two other kids wander over, and soon enough they’re helping, too.

Blaine extracts himself from that group, and finds Sarah smiling at him from across the gym, quietly slow clapping his triumph.

Maybe he’ll count this one as a big victory.


	17. Chapter 17

Blaine spends the next week or two in absolute denial about his speech.

He takes on a “maybe if I don’t look at it doesn’t exist” attitude.

But it does exist and he’s getting more anxious with each passing day. The hard part is that a lot of issues are covert. He can glide over the stuttering for a while, to the point where most people might not notice it. But all of the inner issues are present. The way his throat and chest feel too tight, all of the words he tries to avoid.

He and Kurt spend a lot of time the way they used to at the beginning of their relationship, going to the movies, watching tv. Blaine’s needy, physically, during this time. Looking for all the physical comfort that Kurt has to offer.

Kurt tries to talk to him about it to no avail. From Kurt’s point of view, Blaine seems to be in a state of mourning over his lost fluency. It’s like he’s going through all the stages of grief. Right now, he’s stuck somewhere between denial and bargaining, Kurt thinks. So Kurt stops pressuring him about it, hoping that Blaine is smart enough, and self aware enough, to figure out that he needs help.

Unfortunately, it’s taking longer for Blaine to come to terms with this than Kurt expects. He knows how afraid Blaine is, that Blaine is paralyzed with fear. But, he worries incessantly about what Blaine could be doing. And then he worries incessantly about what he could be doing for Blaine.

After two weeks of worry, Kurt finally texts Chad.

~~~~~

September 19  
@ 8:19 pm  
Kurt: Hey, it’s Kurt, Blaine’s boyfriend?  
Kurt: I stole your number from his phone.

9:01 pm  
Chad: Kurt! Hi! What’s up?

9:08 pm  
Kurt: Blaine thinks, and I agree, that he might be having a stuttering relapse.

9:12 pm  
Chad: Why hasn’t he gotten in touch with me?

9:14 pm  
Kurt: I think he’s scared, embarrassed  
Kurt: He’s in denial for sure.

9:15 pm  
Chad: I’ll text him

9:17 pm  
Kurt: thanks. Can we pretend this never happened?

9:18 pm  
Chad: Deleting these messages …

9:20 pm  
Kurt: Me too. Thanks again.

~~~~~

September 20  
7:17 pm  
Chad: Hey! I’m a little shocked I haven’t heard from you about student teaching.  
Chad: How’s it going?

8:02 pm  
Chad: You can run, you can hide, but you can’t escape my love.

8:57 pm  
Chad: I actually feel like you’re avoiding me.

9:33 pm  
Chad: BLAAAAAINE!

10:22 pm  
Chad: Blaine?

10:51 pm  
Chad: Now I’m actually worried.  
Chad: I’ll resume this in the morning.

September 21  
7:00 am  
Chad: I’m going to text you every hour on the hour until you respond to me.  
Chad: Better keep your phone on silent at student teaching, cause it’s going to be BLOWING UP

8:00 am  
Chad: Guess you’re not going to stop me, huh?

9:00 am  
Chad: If things are sucky, you know you can talk to me.

10:00 am  
Chad: I feel completely lame asking this, but are you mad at me for some reason?

11:00 am  
Chad: BLAAAAAAAAINE!

12:01 pm  
Chad: Blaine?  
Chad: also, damn, I missed the exact hour mark.

1:00 pm  
Chad: I like to think that I’m at least somewhat whittling you down.

2:00 pm  
Chad: Just, call me or something, okay?

3:00 pm  
Chad: This has become an awesome game.

4:00 pm  
Chad: Apparently you’re in the waiting room right now.

~~~~~

“Hey,” Chad says to Blaine when he walks outside to the waiting area.

“Hi,” Blaine responds as he stands.

“I’m a little surprised to see you h-h-here.”

“I’m a little s-s-s-s-surprised to b-b-beh-be here. Buh-buh-buh-ut your constant texting d-d-d-during the past 24 hours r-r-r-r-r-r-really did whittle mmmmmm-me down.”

Chad gestures back towards his office, and Blaine follows. They enter the office and sit at the small table, much the same way they did the first time Blaine came for therapy. Chad leans his elbows on the table and looks at Blaine expectantly.

“My s-s-spah-spah-spah-speech is fucked,” he tells him, getting straight to the point. “I-I-I f-f-figured I’d make an appointment, be-be-be-be-cause I-I-I-I need you to be my s-s-s-sp-spah-eech therapist, rather than mmmm-my f-f-f-friend. If you dah-don’t mm-mind.”

Chad looks at him for a second, collecting his thoughts and says the first thing that pops into his mind. “I haven’t heard you st-st-stutter on an f in years.”

“I-I-I-I know,” Blaine agrees sadly, wiping his palms on his pants.

“You know the drill,” Chad says, leaning back in his chair. “Tell me ya-ya-your story, try not to avoid words.”

Blaine jumps in from the last time he spoke to Chad, about a month ago. He had just barely started struggling with his speech again at that point, and he made a point of drinking two beers fairly quickly to keep his stutter away.

He tells Chad that he could feel a change in his pattern, for a couple weeks, he wasn’t hitting his targets, he wasn’t anticipating pull-outs and cancellations the way he should.

“Controlling it had b-b-b-been w-w-w-working perfectly for, for, for, for a, a, about 6 mmmmm-months. I-I-I-I-I was on auto-pilot, fluency w-w-w-wi-wise, for mmmm-most of the, the, the ss-ss-ss-ummer. I-I-I could talk, pl-pl-plain and s-s-s-simple. Then … I just lost it. I didn’t know just how ba-ba-ba-bad until my first day of s-s-s-s-student teaching when f-f-f-f-or the fir, fir, fir-first time in probably year and a half, I opened mmmm-my m-m-m-m-mouth and nothing came out. I-I-I-I-I felt like … well, I thought of that Buh-buh-uffy the Vampire Slayer episode,” Blaine says with a grin.

“Hush,” Chad supplies.

“That’s the one. Like I-I-I could p-p-p-p-puff air out, and not mmmm-make noise. I-I-I have no idea how that happened,” he looks at Chad again, hoping he has an answer.

Chad shrugs. “Anxiety. The knowledge of how much is riding on your sp-sp-speech with regards to your career.”

“B-b-b-b-but I wasn’t even r-r-r-r-really feeling that anxious!” Blaine exclaims.

“Sometimes it doesn’t matter. I don’t really uh-un-d-d-erstand that part of it. Like how your emotions can secretly influence what your mouth is doing,” Chad admits. “Like they’re in cahoots and don’t give you any choice in the matter.”

For the millionth time in the past two years, Blaine thanks whatever entity is responsible for bringing Chad into his life. Into this world.

Blaine nods.

“And no matter how much we hate to admit it, these types of reeeee-lapses aren’t rare. And the fact that it h-h-happened within the first year of gaining fluency isn’t surprising.”

“Somehow your s-s-s-s-st-st-statistics f-f-fail to make me feel be-be-be-be-better.”

Chad shrugs. “How about a personal anecdote?”

Blaine thinks about it. “That mmmmm-might help.”

“Like I’ve said in the past, my st-st-stutter was just as bad as yours when I was younger. It was definitely at its worse when I was in high school. I was lucky enough to have a fairly popular older brother in the grade above me and a … and the best friend you could ever d-d-re-re-eam of. She was my Matt.”

Blaine wants to ask why she “was” his Matt. He briefly worries about losing Matt somewhere along the way, but quickly clears his thoughts.

“Anyway, I went to college, got my act together a little bit more, took control of my speech, went to group therapy,” Chad pauses, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I let myself do all that. I let myself make friends, I let myself have fun. I let myself st-st-stutter, and it got easier. And then I graduated college, and reality slammed back into place. And my s-s-speech was terrible. I moved back in with my parents for a while, which I think only exacerbated my issues in some ways. Not because they’re bad parents, but I think it … made me, made me, made me, um, regress a bit.”

Blaine bobs his head. The summer between his freshman and sophomore years of college he had seen his own speech regress, just being around his parents.

“So then it got worse,” Chad continues. “Worse and worse, with every ja-ja-job interview I went on, every time I tried to socialize. I felt like I was falling apart. So, I started working as my own speech therapist, doing a lot of research, reading every article I could get my hands on. I couldn’t find anything full time, so I got a ja-ja-job as a bar back, and I was making decent money. And I didn’t have to talk to anyone. But then I decided to go back to school, and become a s-s-speech pathologist. I mean, I did all that research, might as well put it to good use.”

“So, what you’re telling mmmmm-me, is that you d-d-d-dug yourself out of it?”

“Yep. That time. After my dad died, I couldn’t. But it took me about two months to ask for help. Considering it only took you two weeks to ask for help, I think you have an, have an, have an ... advantage.”

Blaine sits up straighter. “I-I-I-I think I’m going to d-d-d-do group therapy again.”

“Good for you,” Chad moves to his desk, and looks something up on his computer. “Another one starts in 2 weeks,” he informs Blaine. “They’re doing one Saturday afternoons now.”

“Good, cause I’m r-r-r-r-ridiculously b-b-b-b-busy be-be-bebetween s-s-s-student teaching, w-w-working, and my class work.”

“Busy isn’t a bad thing, maybe it’ll keep your mind off your s-s-s-speech a bit.”

Blaine shrugs. So far it hasn’t, but he doesn’t say anything.

“And h-h-how would you feel about coming to see me once a week for at least the next month?” Chad asks.

“I … I think that’s a, a, a, um, a good idea,” Blaine mumbles, not looking at Chad.

Chad comes back over to the table and sits. He scoots his chair over to pat Blaine’s knee.

“You know you didn’t fail right?”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “Kinda f-f-f-f-feels like fuh-failure.”

“It’s not, I swear.”

Blaine puts his face in his hands and sighs. “Okay. What’s first?”

They set to work, coming up with a short term plan, and some goals. They set times for the next four sessions. They create a couple of preparatory sets for Blaine to work on for the next week, and then their hour is over.

“I’m s-s-s-sorry I-I-I-I w-w-w-was avoiding you,” Blaine says before he leaves.

“It’s okay, I understand all too well,” Chad says. “Did you tell anyone you were coming today?”

“Um, Matt. And Kurt,” Blaine says with a shrug. “Why?”

“It’s important to, to, to have support, make sure you tell people. I mean, you don’t have to tell anyone, but I know you, and I know you work better when you have support.”

Blaine nods seriously and puts out his hand to shake.

“Thanks, Chad.”

“Not a problem,” Chad says, pulling Blaine in for a hug instead.

~~~~~

Blaine really enjoys observing classes during student teaching. The kids are, for the most part, funny and cute, and all pretty happy to be in music class. He takes a lot of notes about emulating Karen’s attitude.

When it’s his turn to take over one of the classes, Karen gives him an easy one, the kindergartners. They’re not learning to read music, they’re not learning the families of musical instruments, they don’t have any tests, basically she just teaches them a couple of songs, and they’re happy. These kids love to sing.

Later that morning, when they come in quietly, in a single file line, Karen asks them to take a seat on the floor. Then she explains that a different teacher is going to help them today, but she’ll be over in the corner if they need anything. Then Blaine steps in.

He reintroduces himself to the class, figuring that they might have forgotten his name during the past couple weeks, he stutters a bit on the “m” in mister and decides to take the opportunity to talk about his speech. (He has to think about it as an opportunity, that’s what Chad would tell him.)

He looks at all their tiny faces, looking up at him from their spots on the floor and decides to sit down there with them.

“Do any of you go to s-s-speech here at, at, at school, or mm-maybe somewhere else?” he asks.

Two of them nod, two others pick their nose, and three raise their hands.

He points at the hands, “One, two, three,” he says pointing at them.

The first one, Bridget, explains that she goes to speech for a lisp. The second one, Maribel, talks about having gone to the dentist the other day to get a cavity filled and that it made her mouth tired. And the third, Charley, says that sometimes his little brother talks funny.

Blaine nods, and listens intently to all of their stories.

“Well,” he says, sucking in a breath. “Sometimes I-I-I have trouble talking.”

Carlos raises his hand. “Like my abuela when she takes her teeth out?” he asks.

“Um. Not r-r-really. Sometimes, when I talk, my w-w-words get all mmm-messed up, like, um.” He swallows hard twice, and lets his neck jerk. “Like when I try to, to, to, um, to say certain words. Somebody tell mmm-me a word that starts with S.”

“School!” Barney shouts.

“Okay, um, s-s-s-s-s-school.” Blaine says.

Some of the class giggles.

“I’m nah-not joking,” he says seriously. “I-I-I can’t control it when that happens.”

They stop smiling.

“Do you have any, any, um questions f-f-for me? You can ask anything you w-w-want,” he tells them. “I won’t get mmm-mad, or anything.”

Bridget raises her hand. “Just cause you talk different doesn’t mean you’re stupid,” she says seriously.

He nods. “I agree.”

Devin raises her hand. “Does it hurt?”

“Not r-r-really. It hurts mmm-my feelings when people laugh at me, or, or, or make fun of me be-be-ecause of it,” he tells her earnestly.

“Can you fix it?” Max asks.

“I’m trying,” Blaine smiles. “So are, are, are w-w-w-we good?”

They all nod.

“Do you guys w-w-w-want to sss-sing?”

They nod more enthusiastically.

Blaine thinks he can do this.

No, he amends that thought in his head. He knows he can do this.

~~~~~

Blaine, in his more hopeful moments, likes to think of his relapse as “The Month his Mouth Forgot.” Even though it’s lasting longer than a month, technically.

Aside from the strides he’s making student teaching, his speech outside of talking to kids remains the same, and sometimes seems to only be getting worse by the day. He tries not to let it get him down, he tries telling himself a hundred different ways that he’s not a failure, and that he’s not giving up.

But he starts emailing his mom instead of skyping, he doesn’t order for himself at restaurants. One day Cooper calls him, and he doesn’t call back, instead texting him later. He slowly falls back into the person he was when his stutter was at it’s worst, when his speech ruled his life. The difference now is that he has people to talk to. And that both helps and hurts.

Everyone’s understanding. Matt, Tina, Julia, Rachel, Puck. Each and every one of his friends is patient and kind and gives him the time he needs to get his words out. DiDi texts him various words of wisdom about perseverance and fortitude. He’s pretty sure she makes most of them up, and he quite frankly couldn’t love her more for her good nature, and her ability to make him laugh.

Kurt, as usual, has been nothing but immensely patient and kind. At first Blaine was confused, when he would get lengthy emails from from Kurt, and then he realized Kurt was writing everything to Blaine, giving Blaine permission to write everything to him. So he took that permission and wrote Kurt (and Kerry) massive emails. Saying everything that his mouth wouldn’t let him. He bared his soul via electronic mail, as he’d done many times in the past.

Kurt texted him more, im’d him more, made more allowances for him, and has been consistently wonderful through the whole thing.

The “month” has been full of several highs for Blaine but an awful lot of lows.

The evening after his first group therapy class, he and Kurt lay on Kurt’s bed, nose to nose. The glow of a single candle the only light. They have their shirts off, on the verge of something more, but mostly just enjoying each other’s company. Without all that talking they have a lot more time for kissing. And sex. And post-sex showers.

Blaine used up all his words at therapy earlier, and told Kurt as much in a text message. So they’re nearly silent tonight. Kurt always follows Blaine’s lead on these things. If Blaine is quiet, Kurt is quiet. If Blaine wants to write, Kurt writes back. If Blaine whispers, Kurt whispers. He doesn’t talk if Blaine doesn’t, or can’t. It’s easier that way, he knows, for Blaine. Less pressure to perform.

Kurt takes his pointer finger and writes “I love you” across Blaine’s chest, slowly, letter by letter so Blaine can feel each one.

Blaine smiles and holds up his hand, in a gesture that Kurt thinks is sign language for “I love you.” When Blaine writes it across Kurt’s chest, and then gestures with his hand again, a bit more emphatically, Kurt makes the same gesture.

Blaine takes Kurt’s fingers, and fixes them just so, and Kurt kisses him, long and lazy, trailing his tongue along Blaine’s bottom lip, then sliding it into his mouth.

When their mouths part, Kurt runs his fingers through Blaine’s hair, and then uses his finger to write a “b” on Blaine’s forehead. Blaine giggles, and holds his hand up again, in a different sign. He writes a b over Kurt’s heart, and Kurt holds his hand up in a perfect replica of Blaine’s practiced sign.

Blaine writes an “a” on Kurt’s arm this time, and holds his hand up for Kurt to see. Kurt mimics the gesture. They go through the alphabet this way, when they get to “i” though, Blaine licks a short line up Kurt’s stomach and then dots it with his tongue. Kurt rolls away, ticklish, and can’t stop laughing. Blaine lunges up and hovers over him, licking his neck this time, his face awash in a smile that Kurt feels like he hasn’t seen in years rather than just a couple weeks.

The alphabet is abandoned for now, as Blaine straddles Kurt and leans in to kiss his neck. Kurt finds some leverage and rolls them over, so that Blaine’s beneath him. He rocks his hips, making Blaine gasp at the friction.

They both start unbuttoning their pants, Blaine stills Kurt with a hand on his arm, before rolling away to kick his own off. Kurt leans back on his elbows, watching Blaine, a smile lighting his face. Blaine moves back towards Kurt, not losing eye contact.

Kurt raises an eyebrow when Blaine lets a little growl out. Kurt’s breathing picks up then, as Blaine’s nimble fingers pull Kurt’s jeans from his waist. Tossing them away, Blaine leans in to kiss up Kurt’s thighs. Moving further up, he mouths over Kurt’s briefs, and gives into his impulse to nuzzle, eliciting a high pitched giggle from Kurt. Blaine’s eyes drift up, and they share a smile. Kurt’s pulse races, because silly as it is, it’s still incredibly sexy.

Blaine continues his journey up Kurt’s body, paying special attention to places where he knows Kurt is ticklish, ghosting over them with his lips, his warm breath making Kurt’s skin prickle. Blaine can feel Kurt’s hair stand on end.

Blaine takes his time, kissing him, running his hands down Kurt’s body, until he can slide them underneath Kurt, pulling him close. Blaine presses himself firmly against Kurt, and they roll their hips, kissing, panting, moving their sweat slicked bodies together.

Blaine pulls their mouths apart, sucking at the edge of Kurt’s collarbone. Nibbling, licking, marking him. Taking control because he needs to, because it’s been lacking in his life. He feels confident. He has the power to make Kurt comes apart at the edges, and he uses it.

Blaine trails his tongue up Kurt’s neck, finding his pulse point, pressing his lips there, taking a moment to worship one of his favorite parts of Kurt.

After that, they continue at a near dizzying pace, looking to gain some kind of purchase on each other. Kurt’s nails dig into Blaine’s back, trying to draw him closer, create more friction, more heat, more.

They come almost simultaneously, Blaine falling limply on top of Kurt, breathing heavily in his ear. Kurt closes his eyes, kisses Blaine’s jaw.

They stay like that, Kurt not surprised when Blaine slides to the side, and then curls tighter to Kurt. Kurt tightens his grasp, not wanting to let him go. Blaine leans his head on Kurt’s chest, listening to his heart hammering away. Blaine did that.

When their breathing slows, Blaine noses the underside of Kurt’s jaw, and then darts his tongue out briefly, giggling.

Kurt giggles too, and kisses Blaine’s temple.

“I love you,” Kurt whispers.

Blaine puts his mouth right to Kurt’s ear. “I love you, too.”


	18. Chapter 18

October works its way into the city, giving the afternoons a chill, making the mornings downright cold.

Blaine sees his breath as he walks to school in the morning. As of today, he’ll have taken over one class in each grade. He worries that the fifth graders will be the hardest. Not only because they’re doing the most work, but because they’re the most likely to zero in on his weaknesses. They’re awfully close to being teenagers.

When they arrive later that morning, the students settle in the desks in the room, and Karen explains that Mr. Anderson (a title Blaine is still not completely comfortable with. In part because he hears it in the voice of Agent Smith from The Matrix.) will be taking over their class for the marking period.

He smiles and waves, looking at their faces, chest constricting in a way that means his voice might not work. Karen and Chad have given him very similar advice about today: Show them no weakness.

“So, yeah. I’m M-m-mister Anderson.”

Brief giggling from one corner of the classroom. He’s not actually sure it’s a giggle about him though.

“I have a, a, a s-s-stutter. Do, do, um, do you guys know what that is?”

One of the girls, Hannah, raises her hand. “I read a book last year? About a girl named Mary Maroney? And she stutters?”

“Okay. Cool. I-I-I read a couple of those books, too. So, dah-dah-do you know what it is?”

“Like when you go ssssss-snake,” Michael says.

“Yeah, exactly. That happens to mmm-me sometimes, and I-I-I can’t control it. Do you have any questions?”

They look around at each other.

“No? Any comments?”

A hand shoots up in the back, and Blaine calls on Victoria.

“My cousin Teddy stutters,” she says, looking around at her classmates. “He’s cool. He’s 13. He goes to speech therapy. Do you go to speech therapy?”

“Um. Actually. Yes. I-I-I do. A kind f-f-for grownups,” he explains.

He looks at them again, a couple of the kids look bored, but most of them look at least moderately interested, and no one’s giggling anymore.

“Okay, anything else?” Blaine asks.

Bethany raises her hand. “We won’t make fun of you,” she says. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Thanks,” he says, a little shocked at her moxy.

Bryan raises his hand. “Do you people make fun of you?” he asks. “Even though you’re a grownup?”

“Um, yeah. Sometimes,” Blaine shrugs. “I’m n-n-n-n-not really that old.”

“How old are you?” Samara asks.

“Um, 22.”

“That’s kinda old,” Bethany says. “It’s dumb that old people make fun of you. They should know better.”

“They should,” Blaine says, trying hard not to smile. He makes the mistake of glancing at Karen at the back of the room. Her shoulders are shaking with silent laughter, tears glinting in her eyes.

“How come you told us?” Tucker asks. “We would have known just by listening to you.”

Blaine considers this question for a second. “Be-be-be-cause sometimes when it comes down to it, it’s b-b-b-better to be open about things that make you f-f-f-feel embarrassed than to keep them b-b-b-bot-bot-bottled up inside.”

They all nod seriously.

“Why are you embarrassed about it?” Sophia asks.

The world sharpens, and Blaine feels like he can’t breathe for a minute. He suddenly regrets bringing his speech up. It’s such a good question and he doesn’t have an appropriate answer. There are hundreds of answer but none acceptable in this moment. (Because people make fun of me, because people think I’m “retarded”, because I can’t control it, because it leaves me feeling mute and powerless, because I can’t control my tics and twitches, because I hate it, because I was so close to fine, and then the bottom dropped out.)

Before Blaine can collect an answer, Crystal says, “He just told us that people make fun of him. That’s why he’s embarrassed.”

“Yeah, and he can’t control it,” Ray says. “Right?”

Blaine nods.

“And I bet people think something’s wrong with you sometimes right?” Victoria pipes up. “One time I was with Teddy at the toy store, and he was asking for something, and this lady thought he was having a seizure.”

Blaine smiles. That’s happened to him. He thinks he’d like to meet Teddy. They could probably bond.

“Well,” Blaine says after looking around the class for a minute. “Um, we should get to w-w-w-work.”

He has a feeling he’s really going to like these kids.

~~~~~

“Would you b-b-b-be upset if w-w-w-we did … mmmmm-more conservative costumes for Halloween this year?” Blaine asks Kurt as they settle in to watch a movie one evening in the middle of October. Puck’s roommates have a Halloween blow out every year, and Kurt and Blaine have been discussing costumes. Last year they went as cavemen but this year Blaine is hoping to keep a lower profile.

With just a couple weeks of group therapy,and a month of one on one therapy with Chad under his belt, Blaine feels about halfway back to his old self. He’s a bit quieter, hesitating longer than he used to before speaking, but he’s making strides. He’s still stuttering a lot more than he was over the summer, but Kurt can see improvements, mostly in his mood.

Kurt curls up into Blaine’s side on the couch, pausing the opening credits that are rolling across the screen.

“What did you have in mind?”

Blaine shrugs. “We b-b-b-b-both have n-n-nice b-b-b-lack s-s-s-suits, maybe FBI agents or sssss-something. Or I-I-I-I could, um, could, um, be, be, be an FBI agent, and you could b-b-be whatever you damn w-w-well please.”

“You could be my FBI agent,” Kurt says flirtatiously.

“I-I-I-I-I could,” Blaine agrees with a smirk, sliding Kurt’s legs across his lap. He opens his mouth to say something else, to volley back to Kurt, to continue the verbal sparring. But Kurt can see in his face that he starts to block. Blaine cuts himself off, shaking his head, and grins sheepishly at Kurt, embarrassed, and unable to continue.

Kurt searches Blaine’s eyes, running his thumb along his cheek.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” Kurt says, his voice tender and a little sad.

“I-I-I-I know,” a blush creeps up Blaine’s cheeks and he lowers his eyes, his body stiffening under Kurt’s, his arms crossing in front of his chest, closing himself off.

“Sometimes I think you forget that I don’t mind when you stutter.”

Blaine makes a disgusted face, frustration exploding in his chest. “How can you not though? It’s n-n-n-not like I-I-I-I-I think you’re lying to mmmm-me or s-s-s-something, buh-buh-buh-ut my s-s-s-spah-speech annoys the fuck out of me. How d-d-da-dah-does it not annoy you?”

“I don’t know. It just doesn’t. I love you, it doesn’t matter how you sound.”

Blaine leans his head back against the couch, somehow retreating even further from Kurt, even though they’re still physically connected.

Kurt wedges his arm between Blaine’s neck and the couch, bringing his hand to play with the curls at the back of Blaine’s neck, and resting his head on Blaine’s arm.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Kurt repeats.

“It mmmmm-matters to m-m-m-me,” Blaine says indignantly, now wanting to fight, but trying to make Kurt understand something that Blaine himself doesn’t have a really good grasp on.

“Of course. I never said it didn’t. But it can matter to you, without it being a big deal to me.”

“I-I-I don’t like … mmmm-making you listen to, to, to mm-me. I-I-I don’t know. It’s frustrating.” Blaine closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. This was supposed to be an easy night, they were going to eat dinner, watch a movie, go to sleep early.

Kurt sits up, looking at Blaine. He puts his hands on Blaine’s face, pulling his head up off the couch. Blaine keeps his eyes closed, the way he does when he’s avoiding something, when he doesn’t want Kurt to see what he’s thinking.

Kurt moves his hands to Blaine’s neck and leans his forehead against Blaine’s. “Please don’t hide from me. You’ve been so amazing, and I’m so very proud of you. But it’s like … in the past week or so, you stopped letting me. I can feel you pushing me away. Please don’t push me away.”

Blaine opens his eyes, swallowing several times, taking deep breaths. Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine, embracing him tightly and moves his mouth to Blaine’s ear.

“Listen to me, very carefully Blaine. You don’t have to talk. I don’t want you to feel like have to talk if you don’t want to. But please don’t hide from me. You’re allowed to have feelings and you’re allowed to be upset. I just hate watching you pull away from me.” Kurt feels Blaine place his hands lightly on Kurt’s back, there’s a slight tremble in them. Kurt kisses the shell of his ear and then continues. “I’ll listen to you no matter what, you know that. Whether you want to write things, or whisper things, or make faces until I know exactly what you mean. Send smoke signals. I don’t care.”

Blaine squeezes his eyes shut and nods against Kurt’s shoulder.

They pull back from each other. Blaine sighs and runs his hands through his loose curls.

“I need you. Okay?” Kurt asks.

“Yeah,” Blaine answers.

“You don’t have to talk, but please don’t pull away, don’t put space between us.” Kurt places his hand on Blaine’s heart and feels it beating wildly. Kurt searches his face, seeing that Blaine’s unable to hold his gaze, he kisses Blaine’s cheek and hopes it’s enough.

Blaine sighs, and rubs a hand across his eyes. But a tear leaks out before he can brush it away.

“Oh, poop, please don’t cry. I’m not trying to make you cry.”

“I-I-I-I know, and I’m n-n-not,” Blaine says. “Well, I-I-I am, b-b-b-but,” he shakes his head, his face contorting with the force of trying not to cry, and trying not to stutter at the same time.

Kurt takes Blaine’s hand, lacing their fingers together, waiting patiently. He kisses Blaine’s knuckles, and keeps his mouth shut.

Blaine clears his throat. “It’s be-be-be-because you’re too n-n-n-nice. Again. As usual. You’re so good to m-m-m-me, all the time. And I-I-I-I feel like, I feel like I d-d-d-don’t do enough f-f-for you. And then like, like, everything is, is, is, is crushing mmmm-me. My s-s-s-s-spah-spah-eech, s-s-s-student teaching, group therapy, and you dah-dah-don’t w-w-w-want anything, but I-I-I-I feel like I-I-I owe you s-s-s-so mmmmmm-much. You’re s-s-so n-n-nice, and, and, and, p-p-p-patient and I’m so … w-w-w-weird. And … “

“And what Blaine?”

“And s-s-s-stupid. And n-n-n-not useful. And not good enough,” he winces as he says this last phrase, feeling the truth of it settle in his chest. Blaine isn’t good enough for Kurt. He’s been pretending all this time, and now he can’t pretend anymore.

That’s too much for Kurt to take. He extracts himself from Blaine and kneels next to him on the couch. Kurt again takes Blaine’s face in his hands, staring into his eyes.

Blaine blinks half a dozen short blinks, and darts his eyes away from Kurt’s, but doesn’t pull out of his grasp.

“You listen to me. I thought we had this discussion. I thought you understood this a long time ago, but apparently you have some form of amnesia. I love you. I love you because you’re kind, funny, intelligent, talented, pulchritudinous, and the most wonderful poophead I have ever met. Where’s the list Blaine?” Kurt moves his hands to Blaine’s shoulders.

“In, in, in mmm-my wallet.”

“Read the list. Remember why I love you. Remember all the ways I’ve told you I love you over the past two years. And then read the other list. No matter what your speech sounds like, you are winsome, happy, and brave.”

“Probably n-n-n-n-n-nah-nah-not,” Blaine whispers, his cheek twitching, unable to say much more, his throat locking up.

“Fuck that. That’s bullshit. That’s who you are in here,” Kurt leans over and kisses Blaine’s heart. “And in here,” he moves to kiss the side of Blaine’s head.

Now Kurt’s on the verge of tears, and he feels sorry that he somehow ruined their evening of takeout and movies. But he doesn’t say that.

Instead he says, “Now stop being a whiny bitch ,and let’s go do something sexy.”

Blaine’s eyes had been focused on his knees. His head whips up, and he looks at Kurt. Kurt’s hair is a mess, and his eyes are shiny and red, his cheeks flushed. Kurt worries briefly that he was too harsh, that Blaine’s going to be angry at him. But he kind of was being a whiny bitch, and from the very beginning of their relationship Kurt knew that one of the best ways to snap Blaine out of a funk is to be blunt and honest with him. He thinks back to the time Matt cornered him in the bathroom to explain how to deal with Blaine. Kurt’s hoping to capitalize on making him laugh, and breaking his block. He just hopes he hasn’t gone too far.

“Did you just call mmmmm-me a, a, a, a whiny um, um, b-b-b-bitch?” Blaine asks in wonder.

“Yes.”

Blaine throws his head back and laughs long and loud. He switches his position on the couch, so that he’s kneeling in front of Kurt, mirroring him.

“There’s no way I deserve you,” Blaine whispers.

“Wrong,” Kurt whispers back. “Wrong, wrong, wrong. Double, triple, quadruple wrong.”

“Are you going to show me how wrong I am? Or are we going to continue to argue the finer points here in the living room, where Puck and Rachel could interrupt us at any moment,” Blaine whispers, pitching his voice low in Kurt’s ear.

“Point taken,” Kurt says, standing up and pulling Blaine back into the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind them.

~~~~~

The Saturday night before Halloween, Blaine goes over to Kurt’s to get ready for the party. Since the night they talked things out, Blaine’s worked hard to express himself more to Kurt, to not let himself get so closed off. He writes more emails, he sends more texts, tells him he loves him more often.

Blaine’s stuck inside his head a lot lately, feeling trapped in a way that he hasn’t in a long time. Group speech therapy is helping, but not as quickly as he’d like it, too. He finds himself more bitter than he was in the past. He’s angrier than he has been in the past. Now he just needs to harness that anger into something productive, like better fluency.

But he’s trying to keep his mind off of that tonight.

Tonight he wants to drink, and have fun, and not think about anything.

Kurt helps him gel his hair back, giggling as he does it.

“This is a kind of sexy look for you,” Kurt says.

Blaine looks in the mirror. Kurt has his hair swooped back and to the side, styled neatly, gelled into place.

“I-I-I look like a, a, a, a Lego guy,” Blaine says.

“Maybe a little, but it works. You have a good head shape for it.”

Kurt sets to work on his own hair, keeping more volume in it, but making it similar to Blaine’s. They both decided to be secret service agents, Kurt figuring that the two of them in slim black suits and dark sunglasses will make for exquisite pictures.

When they’re ready, they stand next to each other by Kurt’s full length mirror.

Blaine whistles. “We are looking FINE!” he exclaims in a silly voice.

“No silly voices tonight,” Kurt says, dropping his voice low. “We are serious men, on a serious mission.”

Blaine smiles and kisses his cheek. “Thank you. I-I-I know you like b-b-be-be-being f-f-flashier on Halloween, b-b-b-but … I’m just not in the mmmm-mood to, to, to, um, stand out.”

Kurt laces his arms around Blaine’s waist and kisses him.

“Anything for you,” he says with a wink when he pulls away.

“You s-s-s-say that, b-b-b-but do you really mmmm-mean it?” Blaine teases.

“Of course, of course,” Kurt says.

Blaine takes on a different persona, a completely different effect than usual, and says in a voice that isn’t his own, “Well, if that’s the case. Will you, Kurt Hummel, do me the honor,” here Blaine pauses for dramatic purposes, “of being my flip cup partner this evening?”

Kurt grins and his eyes sparkle, happy to see Blaine in a good mood, smiling confidently, interested in the world around him. He doesn’t want to say Blaine’s been wallowing, but that’s the word that pops into his mind most often with regards to Blaine’s mood lately. Kurt thinks part of it is that he’s not used to seeing Blaine so discouraged. Kurt snaps himself out of that thought process.

Kurt lifts his chin and smiles imperiously. “I suppose that could be arranged.”

They head to Puck’s, taking the subway amongst a sea of slutty nurses and presidential masks. Halloween has never been Blaine’s favorite holiday. He understands why people like it, but he never quite understood trick or treating as a kid. He always felt embarrassed, going up to other people’s houses, asking them for candy that he didn’t even like. As he got a little older, he stopped doing it altogether, instead asking his mom to buy him a bag of Snickers bars and being more than satisfied to stay home and watch scary movies.

As an adult, Blaine likes the dressing up, going to parties aspect of the holiday. It’s fun and easy for him. It’s well within his comfort zone. Although, when he’s honest with himself, his comfort zone is much wider as long as he’s with Kurt.

They sit next to each other on the train, looking at their reflections in the window opposite them, one or the other pretending to talk into their shoulders.

“I just realized,” Kurt says about 10 minutes into their ride. “We could have been Men in Black! We could have taken some kind of metal pen or whatever to be our mind erase thing. Although I suppose it’s really not that different than being secret service agents.” Kurt feels like he’s babbling, but Blaine likes it.

“I think when we get home, we should have awesome secret service agent sex,” Blaine whispers in his ear.

“Or we could just go home now?” Kurt asks.

Blaine gives that idea thumbs down and blows a raspberry.

“You’re right, Puck would be pissed,” Kurt says. “Is Matt going tonight?”

Blaine nods.

“I feel like I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“He’s … p-p-pre-preoccupied.”

“With what?”

Blaine shrugs. “Uh, gr-gr-grad s-s-school. Studying for the, the, the GREs.”

“Oh. That’s right.”

They sit quietly for the rest of the ride, people watching, and the time flies.

When they arrive at Puck’s, Blaine is hesitant, Kurt can tell. They haven’t gone out a lot lately, in part because they both have to get up early every morning now. But also because Blaine just hasn’t been into it.

Several beers later, however, and Blaine has decided to pretend that he’s Kurt’s secret service agent. He’ll stand in front of Kurt, and mumble nonsense into his shoulder.

“Poop, I’m an agent too. What are you doing?” Kurt asks the first time Blaine puts a protective arm out as they walk to the keg.

“I have an assignment, and I am responsible for your protection,” he says seriously, in a voice that’s a cross between John Wayne and Clint Eastwood, and every other secret service agent in any movie ever.

Kurt looks at him confusedly and pumps his beer.

“You definitely should not be doing that. Let me test it for you,” Blaine grabs the cup and gulps it down. “Not sure it’s safe.” He mumbles into his shoulder again.

As the night wears on, Kurt can’t stop laughing at the antics that Blaine’s getting up to. It rivals the night of Matt’s birthday with the penis pickup lines.

Kurt happens to be in the kitchen, talking to Matt and Julia, when an inevitable fight breaks up. A drunk guy throws a punch, and Blaine is there immediately, calling “Back up, back up!” into his shoulder as he ushers Kurt to safety.

“You know you’re ridiculous?” Kurt asks when they stop in the living room.

Blaine shrugs. “Just trying to mmmm-make m-m-m-my own f-f-f-fun.”

Kurt tugs him closer. The room’s dark, warm, and pulsing with music that just begs to be danced to.

“I think you’re a lot of fun,” Kurt tells him earnestly.

Blaine smiles shyly, looks at Kurt through his eyelashes, and holds up his hand in a gesture that Kurt is becoming very familiar with.

“I love you,” Blaine signs.

Kurt holds up his hand, signs it back, and seals it with a kiss.


	19. Chapter 19

Blaine spends most of Thanksgiving weekend feeling like he’s doing an impersonation of himself for his parents. He works hard to keep his speech even, and he pulls out of every block, but keeping up the charade is kind of exhausting. He’s trying so hard not to disappoint his parents, particularly his dad. In the past, he’s worried about angering him, or even being ignored by him, but not disappointing him. This is new to Blaine.

He didn’t keep his relapse a secret from his parents, but considering it was last Thanksgiving when his dad got so upset about Blaine not continuing speech therapy, he’d rather his dad remain unaware as to just how much it’s still an issue.

They have Kurt’s family over again, and this year is much less awkward.

And it turns into an even better celebration when Cooper and Katinka announce their engagement over dessert. They’re planning to get married next summer, and everyone’s invited.

After hugs and dessert dishes are moved from the table, and most of the group has moved into the family room to watch football, Cooper corners Blaine outside the bathroom.

“How long were you waiting in the b-b-b-bathroom for me to w-w-w-walk past?” Blaine asks, sort of stunned, as he comes out of his bedroom.

“Twenty minutes,” Cooper says, shrugs. “Give or take.”

Blaine just shakes his head.

Cooper puts a hand on Blaine’s shoulder.

“So, I know we haven’t always been close Blaine, and I know I haven’t always made it easy for you, but I would really like you to be my best man.”

“What about Dave, or, or, or B-b-bru?”

“Is that a no?”

“Not at all, it’s a,” Blaine pauses and smiles. ”I don’t think I’ve ever been mmmm-more surprised by anything in my life. Ever. Except maybe the surprise party on my 21st b-b-birthday.”

Cooper throws his head back and laughs. “I would really like you to be my best man,” he repeats.

Blaine smiles shyly, and ducks his head.

“Totally, of, of, of course. I-I-I-I would love to.”

Cooper pulls him in for a hug, holding him tightly.

When they break apart, Blaine has one more thing to say.

“I’m just. I’m r-r-r-really surprised. I-I-I-I spent like, a, a, a lot of my life kind of assuming you dah-didn’t even really like me, and now you w-w-w-want me to be your b-b-best man, and I feel … r-r-r-really happy,” he trails off, feeling lame. “Sorry, that’s dumb.”

“I always liked you, Blaine. I’m sorry I was ever a dick to you. I want to write it off as stupid big brother shit, but I don’t have an excuse.”

“Thanks, Coop. I-I-I really wasn’t trying to mmmm-make you feel bah-bah-bad. I w-w-w-was actually trying to m-m-m-make you understand that this, you asking me this, r-r-really means a, a, a lot to me.”

Cooper pats Blaine on the back. “I totally get it.”

They rejoin the families in the living room after that, and the rest of the weekend goes smoothly. Blaine even stops feeling like he’s doing an impersonation of himself.

~~~~~

A moment of Blaine’s mom

After dinner, after everyone goes home, after everything is cleaned up, I find him in the kitchen eating cookies. He sits at the kitchen table, his heels hooked onto the chair rung, and I can hear him humming. I take a moment to watch him, to compare him to the boy he was at 5, or 10, or 15. The man he was at 20, the man he is today. He seems shockingly grown up to me this visit.

“Hey, bud,” I say, putting the kettle on to boil. “Want anything?”

“Um, cocoa?”

“Sure.”

I sit down across from him, stealing a green leaf cookie.

“Hey!” he exclaims, grinning.

“Hey yourself,” I say, nibbling the edges. “So, how are you?”

He leans back in the chair, and crosses his arms. He shrugs.

“Anything you want to talk about?” Sometimes I get so annoyed with myself. Over and over again I promise that I won’t corner him, that I’ll let him talk when he wants to, and never pressure him to tell me things. But every once in awhile I just need to ask, I just need to know. I feel the inexplicable need to get information out of him.

He’s silent, biting his lip.

“Guess not,” I fill in for him.

“It’s, it’s, it’s not that,” he starts, shaking his head. “It’s not that I-I-I don’t w-w-want to talk to you. I’m just … embarrassed.”

I nod, not surprised. “You don’t have to be.”

“I know. Doesn’t ssssss-top mmm-me from feeling it though.”

“Can I help?” I feel so powerless. I have no idea what to do, aside from being patient and supportive.

He smiles. “Not r-r-really. Buh-buh-ut I think I’m getting closer. Closer to b-b-b-better.”

“Well, that’s good. So group therapy’s helping?”

He nods. “It’s not as, as, as quick this time. Last time group www-was like … a light b-b-bulb turned on. This time it’s like … not.” He scratches his head self-consciously, blushing.

I study him. He looks so resigned, so tired, so embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” I tell him, sincerely.

“Thanks.” He face break into a grin. “It’s p-p-p-probably not your fault.”

“It’s not yours either, Blaine.”

He sighs. “I-I-I-I know. Feels like it is. Though actually, in my mmmm-more ridiculous moments, I blah-blah-blah-blame Claudine.”

“Who’s Claudine?”

“She’s this b-b-itchy camper that I had last ssss-summer. She made fun of my st-st-st-stutter in front of the kids. And my sp-sp-peech has been pretty mmm-messed up since then.” He dips his head.

I bite the inside of my cheek, and feel like wringing this little girl’s neck. He takes everything so hard, so to heart. He’s still just the sensitive little boy that befriended caterpillars and cried over baby birds.

“What did you do?” I ask quietly.

“I think, I think, I think,” he swallows heavily and clears his throat. “I think I-I-I handled it pretty well in the mmmm-moment. But I think it … “ he pauses and sighs, running a hand over his face. “I think it b-b-b-bothered me a lot mmm-more than I cared to admit at the time. And I feel like if I-I-I-I had acknowledged it then, I might not have had this r-r-relapse.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Blaine.”

“I just,” he stops and shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Listen, you did your best. I know you did. I’m so proud of you for asking for help, for not ignoring it, for not getting bitter. For still being you. From what I can see, you’re handling this remarkably well, Blaine. Don’t be hard on yourself.”

He smiles at the table and scrunches up his nose. I give him a kiss on the cheek, and squeeze his arm as I stand up to make our cocoa. I know words can’t heal everything, but I have a feeling mine just helped.

“Thanks, mom,” he says sincerely.

“Anytime, bud. Anytime.”

~~~~~

Blaine and Kurt linger in bed the first Saturday in December. Puck and Rachel are away for the weekend, so they have all the time in the world. They huddle close under the covers. Kurt’s apartment is always just a little on the cold side, but in some ways that’s why they prefer it to Blaine’s. It’s nicer to cuddle up at Kurt’s.

They kiss lazily, moving only when absolutely necessary, uninterested in anything besides the covers and each other.

Until Blaine’s stomach rumbles. Kurt laughs and blows a raspberry on Blaine’s there, before yanking him out of the cocoon of the bed.

When they’re both freshly showered and dressed they move into the kitchen to make breakfast. Some might say they’re glowing, not for any particular reason, but they’re happy to be together in Kurt’s sun dappled apartment, with nowhere to go.

Blaine has been on a mission recently to make the perfect crepes. Since moving to New York, Blaine has become addicted to crepes. The only thing that crepes lack is the ability to taste good with chicken. He’s tried several different crepes and chicken combos, and none of them were to his liking.

Blaine works on his crepes. Today they’re going to be mixed berries and whipped cream. So far, so good. Kurt busies himself making coffee, and getting out silverware, enjoying the domesticity of the morning.

They eat their breakfast, curled on the couch together, once again enjoying a morning of whatever HGTV has to offer, which today includes a Love it or List It marathon.

“These p-p-people are such assholes,” Blaine mutters. “What do you m-m-mean that room is too s-s-small? It’s like twice as big as the bed, bed, b-b-bedroom in the house you’re trying to renovate.”

“And they never give them enough money for the improvements. What’s the nice lady with the accent supposed to do with 13,000 dollars in a house that looks like that? I mean really.”

“Why don’t w-w-w-we know her name?” Blaine asks, turning to Kurt. “The nice lady with the, with the, with the accent? Why is she a nameless entity?”

“She’s probably in the witness protection program. I bet these people are still pissed at her for refusing to take down that load bearing wall.”

“And they act like, like, like it’s her fault that it’s load b-b-bearing.”

“What did that guy just say? ‘This realtor is making him lose faith in humanity?’ If I were that realtor, I would totally ditch those people. Drive away in my minivan and be like ‘see ya later, suckers!’ They don’t even know where they are.”

“I would s-s-stomp on their cell phones first.”

“Good idea. Survival of the fittest. These two deserve it.”

Blaine shakes his head, mouth full of crepe. “People are dicks.”

Kurt turns to look at him. “I love how you can make such delicate fare as crepes seem completely disgusting by shoving the entire thing in your mouth.”

Blaine gives him the finger and chews dramatically.

Kurt bites his finger.

“Ouch.”

“If only someone were filming us, perhaps we could be the next youtube sensation.”

Blaine quirks an eyebrow. “Perhaps,” he agrees.

“I know you’re going to yell at me for saying this...” Kurt starts.

“Don’t say it,” Blaine pleads quietly, at the same time that Kurt says, “But you sound pretty fantastic today.”

Blaine throws himself dramatically onto the couch cushions.

“Kurt, for the billionth time, we, we, we can’t talk like that! It’s asking for trouble!” he wails, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“It is not. Your superstitions are unfounded. And you just said a b-word without stuttering.”

Blaine sits up, and makes the most threatening face he can possibly make.

“And your threatening faces are so cute.”

Blaine can’t hold in his smile, which then turns into a wolfish grin, when he leans over and licks Kurt’s nose.

Kurt makes a disgusted face as he swipes at his nose.

“It’s only fair,” Blaine reminds him, holding up his finger solemnly. “I can still see b-b-b-bite marks.”

Kurt kisses Blaine’s finger better, which then leads to kissing Blaine in general. When they pull apart, it’s silently decided to clear the breakfast dishes off the coffee table, and then perhaps make their way back to bed.

“I’ll wash since you cooked,” Kurt says, walking backwards towards the kitchen. As he spins around, he slams right into the door jam. The plate in his hand shatters.

Kurt makes a noise of surprise.

Blaine’s quick to help Kurt clean up, Kurt’s already on his knees on the floor when Blaine kneels beside him.

“Be careful,” Blaine says, gingerly grabbing a few of the larger shards. “We’re gonna have to, to, to vacuum.”

He looks over at Kurt then, and he sees his face is white a sheet, and he’s staring at his left hand.

Where there’s about an inch long shard of glass sticking out his palm.

Blaine’s mind slows down for a second, taking in the wound on Kurt’s hand. There’s not much blood, but it doesn’t mean there wouldn’t be if they pulled out the piece of glass themselves. The cut’s a bit jagged, and Blaine’s not sure what the other side of the shard looks like, but the part he can see is wide. It’s not sticking out of the other side of his hand at least, Blaine thinks. The world falls back into place, and Blaine puts his hand on Kurt’s shoulder.

He makes a couple of quick decisions. Don’t pull out the glass, wrap up Kurt’s hand, take him to the hospital because it’s closer than a clinic.

“Kurt, look at me.” Kurt does, and his eyes are as wide as saucers.

“I don’t know how b-b-big that is, or how dah-deep it goes, so I think we should go to, to, to the hospital, okay?”

A shiver runs through Kurt, but he nods. “Hurts,” he says in a strained voice.

Blaine nods. “That’s why we’re going to go to the hospital.”

Blaine holds Kurt’s elbow as he helps him stand, thoughts and questions whizzing through his mind. Is it cold outside? Does Kurt own any shoes without buckles, laces, or straps that Blaine can get on him easily? Where are their coats? Will he be able to hail a cab right now? Does he have enough cash for a cab? Does Kurt have his insurance card in his wallet?

Blaine goes into triage mode. He grabs a clean towel from the kitchen drawer and wraps it firmly around Kurt’s hand, telling him to hold it there, but not to push on the glass. Then he locates their coats, slides his own shoes on, and finds a pair of loafers for Kurt to slip into. Kurt only has a t-shirt on, but hopefully he won’t be too cold with his coat around his shoulders, there’s no way he’s going to attempt getting his arm through the sleeve.

Blaine tracks down their wallets, phones, and Kurt’s keys.

“How you doing?” Blaine asks, when he breezes back into the living room.

Kurt nods, his eyes still wide, his hand held up on his chest.

“Just keep holding your hand up like that. Do you know where your insurance card is? In your w-w-w-wallet?”

“Desk drawer,” Kurt answers, turning to go to his room.

“No, you st-stay here, I’ll go,” Blaine says, rushing to Kurt’s room. He opens the top desk drawer, quickly finding the card, and three 20 dollar bills that he grabs. Just in case. He’ll pay Kurt back later, but it seems wise to have more than just the $17 in his own wallet.

Back in the living room, Kurt is slumped against the wall.

Blaine snakes his arm around Kurt’s waist, propping him up, and walking out the door. They move down to street level.

“You okay, Kurt?” he asks again, trying to get Kurt’s attention, worried he’s going into shock or something.

Kurt swallows a couple times. “I, yeah, I just,” his eyes are a bit unfocused, and there’s a fine sheen on his forehead, a slight shake to his hand.

“You’re fine, you’re gonna b-b-be fine. It’s just a quick ride to the hospital, and you’ll be fine.” Blaine repeats this, as much to himself as to Kurt.

Blaine hails a cab after standing outside for a couple minutes, and of course, the guy takes one look at Kurt and starts to ask questions.

“What’s with him?” the guy gestures at Kurt.

“Cut his hand,” Blaine answers tersely, as he guides Kurt into the back seat.

“He gonna toss his cookies?” the guy asks warily.

“Nah, he’s okay, just needs to, needs to, um, get to the hospital.”

“Gonna bleed all over?”

“No,” Blaine answers, angry. “It’s wrapped up, hardly b-bl-bl-bleeding. Can we go?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the driver mutters, still giving Kurt a once over. “All you uppity college kids.”

Blaine doesn’t give a shit what the guy thinks. He’s wasting time.

“Can we go already?” Blaine ask.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s extra if he ralphs or bleed on the interior.”

Blaine just rolls his eyes and puts his arm around Kurt’s shoulders as the cab pulls into traffic.

“You okay?” he whispers.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Kurt says. And for the first time in 20 minutes, he sounds better. He rests his head on Blaine’s arm, and they’re quiet for the brief trip to the hospital.

When they get there, for the first time in history, the emergency room isn’t packed. They walk up to the desk, and Kurt’s a little zoned out again, so Blaine takes the lead.

“My … bah, bah, b-boyfriend,” Blaine pushes the word out and lets his neck give a fairly horrendous jerk, “has a, a, a piece of p-p-plate ssss-tuck in his hand.”

The woman behind the desk looks at him, and then at Kurt, who’s face is ghost white at the moment.

“Fill these out and bring them back up. Shouldn’t be too long a wait,” she tells them, shoving a clipboard full of forms and a pen across the desk.

Blaine sighs, and it’s then that she smiles, her business-like exterior fading for a moment. “It’ll be fine. Just fill out the forms.”

Her smile is such a small thing, but it really does make Blaine feel better. He guides Kurt to the nearest chair, and they settle in.

Kurt goes to grab for the pen and clipboard, but Blaine pushes his hand away.

“I’ll do it,” Blaine says.

“It’s my left hand that hurts, not my right,” Kurt says, sounding even more like himself.

“Yeah, except how are you, you, you going to hold the clipboard while you write?” Blaine challenges.

Kurt scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Come on, it’s fun. It’s like a quiz about how mmmm-much I know you,” Blaine says, hoping to add some levity to the moment, hoping to take Kurt’s mind off his pain.

This time, Kurt rolls his eyes, but can’t stop smiling.

“Thank you,” Kurt says.

“You’re welcome,” Blaine replies, absentmindedly. “However, I’m failing this exam. I have no idea what your s-s-s-social security number is. And I-I-I-I can never remember if you’re currently pregnant.” Blaine looks over at Kurt with a silly smile on his face.

“I am. It’s my 34th month.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of mmmm-months.”

“I know.”

They continue like this for several minutes, joking, keeping Kurt’s mind off his hand.

A half an hour after they arrive Kurt’s name is called, but as he’s about to go in, his cell phone starts to ring.

“Ugh, it’s my dad,” Kurt says. “It’s like he knows. Can you talk to him? I feel like he’ll be more mad later when I tell him, if I ignore him now.”

Blaine hesitates only for a moment, before nodding and accepting Kurt’s phone, kissing his cheek as Kurt is led away.

“Kurt’s phone,” Blaine says as he answers, watching Kurt walk through the double doors.

“Hey Blaine, how’s it going?”

“Um, everything is fine,” Blaine blurts out.

“Why do I feel like you saying that means everything isn’t fine?”

“Well um, Kurt b-b-b-broke a plate this m-m-m-morning, and we’re at the hospital. He p-pr-prob-prob-bb-bably needs stitches.” Blaine winces at his speech, but he knows that really doesn’t matter to Burt.

Burt takes a deep breath. “But he’s okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine.”

“Why didn’t he answer?” Burt asks, having trouble believing that everything is fine. It’s hard when you can’t see your kid, or hear your kid. It’s hard to imagine that they’re okay, even knowing that Blaine would never lie about Kurt’s okay-ness.

“He’s getting s-s-s-stitched up rrrrr-right nah-now,” Blaine answers. “They just took him b-b-b-ba-ba-back as his phone was r-r-r-r-ringing.”

“Alright, you have him call me as soon as he’s done, alright?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Thanks, Blaine.”

“K, Buh-buh-urt.”

They hang up after that.

Blaine sinks into a chair, jiggling his knee with unspent energy. Now that the adrenaline rush is dying down, he leans forward and puts his face in his hands.

He’s worried about Kurt, but this whole situation makes him anxious. Having to be in charge, talk on the phone, talk to strangers. He’s fairly proud of himself for being able to talk to the hostile cab driver. Not long ago, that would have been the end for him. Though, Blaine supposes, he did it for Kurt. He could probably do just about anything for Kurt.

The nurse from the desk appears in front of him.

“You can go back to your friend if you don’t feel like sitting out here,” she tells him. “He’s through the doors on the right.”

Blaine stands up and smiles. “Boyfriend,” he tells her confidently, smile brightening at the sound of the word without a stutter.

She smiles and winks, and rephrases. “You can go back to your boyfriend now.”

Blaine grabs their coats and walks through the doors. Kurt’s sitting on one of the beds, his elbow propped on a pillow on his lap and his hand resting on a table. The doctor isn’t around, and Kurt is looking anywhere but at his hand. When he sees Blaine he smiles, a very fake smile, and Blaine winces at the forced facial expression.

“How’s it going?” Blaine asks.

“Oh, just peachy,” Kurt says. “I’m waiting for the … stuff to kick in.”

“The stuff?” Blaine inquires teasingly.

“I can’t think of the word. I’m obviously in shock.”

Blaine frowns and sits down next to Kurt, taking his good hand and squeezing. Kurt rests his head on Blaine’s shoulder.

“Then I’m glad I’m here to comfort you d-d-d-during your time of shock,” Blaine tells him, kissing his cheek.

“Yes. Good, thank you,” Kurt says.

“How many s-s-s-stitches are you going to need?” Blaine asks.

“Six,” Kurt sighs. “Did you talk to my dad?”

“Yeah, he says call him b-b-b-back when you’re done.”

“Was he mad?”

“Why would he be mmmm-mad?”

“I don’t know. That I’m clumsy, and had to get stitches or something.”

Blaine shakes his head, and gives Kurt’s knee a squeeze.

A moment later the doctor returns.

The doctor looks over at Blaine, and nods in greeting. “I heard you’re the one who had the presence of mind to leave the shard of plate in.”

Blaine nods.

“That was good thinking,” the doctor says kindly.

“My hero. I would have totally yanked it out,” Kurt confesses.

“Thanks,” Blaine says shyly, looking at his lap.

“I’m just gonna stitch you up, and you’ll be good to go,” the doctor tells Kurt.

At that, Kurt whines quietly, and buries his head in Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine moves his arm around Kurt’s waist, hoping to comfort him.

“I’m being a baby,” Kurt murmurs, squeezing his eyes shut.

“No, you’re not,” Blaine says gently.

“It doesn’t even really hurt that bad right now. I mean, it hurts, but it’s more like pressure. It’s just the knowledge of what’s going on, makes me all …” Kurt trails off and shivers slightly.

“Got it,” Blaine tells him. “I’m not judging. Squeeze my hand.”

So Kurt does.

After that it just takes a couple more minutes, and the doctor sends them on their way, clutching instructions about the care of Kurt’s stitches.

Kurt gingerly slides his bandaged hand through his coat sleeve, and the boys head home. Blaine offers to hail a cab, but Kurt thinks it’s too nice.

“We should walk, before it’s really winter and it gets too cold to walk,” he insists.

“You’re sure?” Blaine asks, not convinced.

“It’s like 6 blocks, and 45 degrees outside, we should have just walked in the first place.”

“No way!” Blaine exclaims. “You w-w-w-were so out of it! And you had half a plate ssss-sticking out of your hand.”

“It was not half a plate!” Kurt insists as they start walking. Blaine switches sides, so he can hold Kurt’s uninjured hand.

“I know, b-b-but I think that’s how we should tell the st-st-story,” Blaine says.

“There was probably a river of blood too, right?”

“No, Kurt. No there wasn’t. You’re d-d-d-delusional,” Blaine deadpans.

Kurt smiles and swings their hands between them.

~~~~~

Later when they’re settled back on Kurt’s couch, their dinner of Chinese food on its way, Kurt snuggles closer to Blaine’s side, kissing his jaw.

“Thank you for helping me today,” Kurt says.

“Of course, of course. Always,” he whispers, smoothing Kurt’s hair.

They’re quiet for a moment.

“Your hand’s r-r-r-really okay?” Blaine asks, as he takes Kurt’s bandaged hand and kisses it gently.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll live.” Kurt leans forward to get a good look at Blaine. “You were really amazing today. You’re so level-headed.”

“Nah, just d-d-did what I had to,” Blaine says, extracting himself from Kurt, and leaning over towards the coffee table to check the money in his wallet.

“Dinner’s on me, since I-I-I used your money to pay for cab earlier. I mean, I b-b-b-basically stole from you while you were in a s-s-state of shock, the least I can do is buy you Chinese food,” Blaine leans his elbows on his knees and grins back at Kurt.

“Stop trying to change the subject,” Kurt says. “I want you know how much I appreciate you.”

Blaine smiles shyly.

“And I want to say that your speech was pretty much perfect, all day long.”

Blaine scoffs, and sighs. He guesses he’s not getting out of this conversation, so he might as well participate. “It was okay. Not s-s-so good with your dad on the, on the, on the phone.”

“Can’t you ever just take a compliment?”

“Probably n-not,” Blaine shrugs. “It was just cause I had to, to, to help you. It was a mmm-mind over matter thing, like Chad says.”

“No way! It was more than that. You were even doing well this morning. And listen to you right now! You sound great. Give yourself an 11 for the day.”

Blaine blushes. “How did you know that I-I-I-I started keeping mmm-my journal again?”

“I kind of just assumed, after you stopped seeing Chad again that you would pick it back up, and now you’ve confirmed it. You don’t have to be shy about it.”

Blaine ducks his head. “I-I-I have no idea why I’m s-s-so embarrassed about it.”

“Cause you’re Blaine, and that’s what you do.”

“You’re sort of wonderful,” Blaine says, finally looking at Kurt.

“Only sort of?” Kurt asks making a face.

“You know what I m-m-m-mean, dumdum.”

“Yes. I do,” Kurt agrees, leaning back against the couch cushions, and wordlessly inviting Blaine into his arms.


	20. Chapter 20

December 23  
@ 7:42 pm

Blaine: Hey, what’s up?  
I feel like I haven’t seen you in like a year  
even though I saw you two days ago  
Matt: oh hey  
Blaine: Don’t sound so excited  
Matt: OH HEY!  
IT’S BLAINE  
HELLO BLAINE  
Blaine: are you being a dick?  
Matt: nah, I’m just being an asshole.  
how’s family fun time?  
Blaine: fun, though a touch too family-ish  
you?  
Matt: same  
Blaine: how are your various children?  
Matt: my brood?  
they’re good  
I think Erin is going to start looking into moving to New York  
Blaine: that would be cool  
Matt: and Katie  
man my parents are so pissed at Katie  
Blaine: what happened?!?  
Matt: well, she failed three classes  
Blaine: nooooooo  
that’s terrible  
she is not going to be invited onto the Eversleigh Wall of Achievement  
Matt: I’m pretty sure she’s not even invited into the Eversleigh Family Portrait at the moment  
Blaine: A SHUNNING!  
Matt: I mean, my parents are pisssssssed  
they’re not actually going to shun her though  
Blaine: I know, you’re parents aren’t Amish  
Matt: exactly, nor are they Schrutes  
in any event.  
she’s pretty much on academic probation  
and my parents refuse to pay her tuition for next semester  
so she has to come home and go to community college  
Blaine: man that sucks  
isn’t she a junior?  
what a terrible time to transfer  
Matt: seriously  
I don’t know what her damage is  
I tried to talk to her about it  
but she’s just too upset at the moment  
Blaine:sucks  
I feel legit bad for her  
Matt: me too  
Blaine: wow. so. that sucks.  
Matt: totally  
Blaine: I have nothing to offer  
Matt: how’s Tinks?  
Blaine: the usual  
Matt: how’s the wedding planning going?  
Blaine: they set a date for June  
Matt: that’s cool  
Blaine: yeah  
Matt: Are we being weird?  
Blaine: kinda yes  
Matt: why are we being weird?  
Blaine: I don’t know  
we’re acting like we don’t know each other  
we’ve never acted like that  
even when we didn’t actually know each other  
Matt: are you mad at me?  
Blaine: hell no  
are you mad at me?  
Matt: nope  
Blaine: then what’s our problem?  
Matt: I guess we just haven’t been talking much lately?  
but we’ve been busy!  
Blaine: yeah!  
like really busy  
I haven’t been that busy  
Matt: sure you have!  
you’ve been busy like whoa  
between student teaching and class and various types of speech therapy and work and Kurt  
Blaine: I’m sorry  
Matt: why are you sorry?  
Blaine: I feel like I’ve been neglecting you lately  
and I need to apologize  
Matt: I’m not actually your puppy  
Blaine: no, but you’re my best friend  
and I’ve been kind of sucky lately  
Matt: I’ve been kind of thinking the same thing actually  
that I’ve been neglecting you  
I kind of feel like I ditched you when you needed me most?  
Blaine: no way! you didn’t ditch me.  
You’ve been crazy busy with GREs and grad school applications and giving campus tours and being Matt and all that business  
and I kind of feel like I wasn’t around to talk to you or help you out  
when you’re trying to make all these decisions about your future  
Matt: not at all  
I’ve been fine  
Blaine: really though?  
Matt: yeah, I think you needed me more than I needed you  
Blaine: I’m okay now though  
Matt: good  
I could tell  
you’ve been better the past few weeks  
Blaine: I have been  
Matt: I still feel like I could have found time for you  
Blaine: I could have found time for you too though  
you’re not the only one to blame in this scenario  
Matt: yeah, but you’ve been having a hard time  
and I should have made an effort  
and I’m a terrible human being.  
Blaine: Matthew.  
it’s not like you’ve been pointing and laughing at me or something  
it’s not like you’ve been brainstorming ways to make me miserable  
or like booby trapping my speech  
Matt: I know.  
I still feel bad.  
(you said booby.)  
Blaine: don’t feel bad. that’s stupid  
Matt: you’re not mad?  
Blaine: no way. are you mad? (BOOBY!)  
Matt: of course not.  
Blaine: good  
Matt: I’m pretty sure I could never actually be mad at you  
Blaine: aw, matthew  
::hugs::  
Matt: you’re so feelings-y Blainers (squeezing your boobies)  
Blaine: I can’t help it  
I blame Christmas  
Matt: yeah, it does that sometimes  
Blaine: so, what else?  
what have you been doing while you haven’t been hanging out with me?  
did you make new friends?  
Matt: um, no. you know the usual.  
I hang out with Puck sometimes  
and the guys from kickball  
I mean I really have been busy  
Blaine: you better rock the shit out of your GREs  
that’s like all you’ve been doing  
Matt: yeah, sometimes that’s all I do  
go to library  
breeze through her awesome vocabulary flashcards  
Blaine: her who?  
Matt: oh, you know, my GRE tutor  
made me flashcards  
Blaine: I didn’t know you had a GRE tutor  
Matt: yeah, I went to the learning annex  
a couple times  
Blaine: cool  
so you were only like a third of the way through the list of your sibling updates  
lay them on me  
what’s Molly doing?  
Matt: I CAN’T LIE TO YOU  
Blaine: what?  
Matt: I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE  
I’VE BEEN HANGING OUT WITH JULIA AND I HAVE UBER-GUILT  
Blaine: Why do you have uber-guilt?  
Matt: because I haven’t told you  
and the longer I went without telling you the more I felt like I was going behind your back  
even though I wasn’t!  
Blaine: wait, so are you *hanging out* with Julia, or ~hanging out~ with Julia?  
Matt: I have no idea what the difference is  
Blaine: are you doing hooking up with her, or just friends?  
Matt: oh  
um  
well  
I have a fairly gigantic crush on her  
but we’re just friends  
Blaine: I might be laughing at you  
Matt: you’re not mad at me?  
Blaine: no, why would I be mad at you?  
Matt: because you’re friends with Kerry  
and if Blaine Anderson is one thing, it’s loyal to his friends.  
Blaine: thank you, and yes  
but there’s a hierarchy  
and my loyalty is to you first  
not to mention that she left  
and she wants you to move on  
and I think she would be happy to know that you are  
Matt: really?  
Blaine: hell yeah  
she’s not a shrew  
I thought you guys were still talking  
Matt: we are, but I feel like you’re more her friend than I am.  
I’m her ex-boyfriend  
it’s a different dynamic  
Blaine: I think I can see that  
Matt: should I tell her?  
Blaine: I don’t know?  
not if nothing is actually going on  
I mean, is the feeling mutual with Julia?  
Matt: I DON’T KNOW  
I FEEL SO LAME  
I LIKE HER SO MUCH  
Blaine: wow  
this is … unexpected.  
how long has this been going on?  
Matt: I dunno  
September-ish?  
Blaine: WHAT?!?  
how have you kept this on the dl that long?  
Matt: because nothing’s actually HAPPENING  
to the outside world we’re just friends  
to Julia’s inside world, we’re probably just friends  
but she’s so fucking cute and nice and funny  
and gahhhhhhhhhhhhh  
Blaine: um. well.  
I have a question.  
and I don’t want you to be offended.  
Matt: okay.  
go for it.  
Blaine: do you think she’s a rebound?  
Matt: you know  
I’ve actually been mulling this over  
because obviously, I like her too much and I think about her all. the. fucking. time.  
but  
no  
I don’t think this is just about the rebound.  
I think I like her a lot  
Blaine: so do you want to tell her?  
or ask her out or something?  
Matt: I don’t think I’m ready for rejection yet  
Blaine: okay, that’s cool  
Matt: I also think that she and kerry are friends and that makes me nervous  
Blaine: nervous how?  
Matt: that even if she does like me, she’ll reject me on the grounds that she can’t date her friend’s ex  
like the lady version of the bro code  
is there a term for that?  
Blaine: no clue  
but I totally get what you’re saying  
Matt: I think Kerry is cockblocking me from Ecuador  
Blaine: I think you’re an idiot  
Matt: Yeah, I am. I don’t really mean that.  
it’s not nice, and I take it back.  
Blaine: so really, do you think she likes you back?  
or is this just unrequited lust?  
Matt: I don’t know  
are you going to tell Kurt?  
Blaine: I don’t have to, no  
I also just realized that he hasn’t said anything about Julia saying something to him  
so there’s that  
Matt: yes  
not sure if that’s good or bad  
Blaine: I have no idea  
though you realize when you DO want to do something about this, I can put the feelers out with Kurt to see if Julia’s said anything  
Matt: true  
but don’t do something embarrassing like try to set us up or something  
Blaine: Matt.  
would I ever do something embarrassing like that?  
I would be so afraid of the embarrassment karma  
that I could NEVER. EVER. let that happen  
Matt: true  
I guess I forgot who I was talking to  
Blaine: obviously  
Matt: so what should i dooooooooooo  
Blaine: well first of all  
stop whining  
what do you *want* to do?  
Matt: I don’t know  
talk to her and think about her and be around her all the time?  
Blaine: that’s not a productive answer  
Matt: I guess I just want to like her for now  
and wait to see how she feels  
I don’t think she’s given me any indication that the feeling is mutual  
Blaine: how much do you hang out with her?  
Matt: I don’t know  
kind of a lot  
Blaine: well, do you initiate, or does she?  
how did it start?  
was there a start?  
Matt: Well, I ran into one day at the coffee place  
back in September  
and I told her I was going to take the GREs  
and she said she had a bunch of books from taking them  
and flash cards  
Blaine: so she’s your “gre tutor”  
Matt: YES. I WAS LYING BEFORE  
ahem  
and I texted her the next day  
so I went over to her place and got the stuff  
she offered to help me, quiz me or whatever  
you know she’s getting her masters in museum studies?  
isn’t that so awesome?  
Blaine: 1. yes I knew  
2\. you’ve never actually been to a museum to my knowledge  
Matt: I could go to a museum  
now that I have a good reason to go  
Blaine: omg. You like REALLY like her  
Matt: I dooooooooo  
it’s so annoying  
Blaine: so, you were hanging out, and she was helping you with the GREs?  
Matt: yeah, at first  
only like once or twice really  
then it just became a front  
to hang out  
I mean, at least for me  
I don’t know, maybe she just really likes helping people study  
and truth be told, I was sort of missing you  
because at this point it’s like mid October  
and you were always super sad  
and with Kurt  
and I was kind of bored and lonely  
Blaine: oh man  
now I’m going to cry  
you should have said something!  
Matt: I would have, but then Julia and I started hanging out more  
and it didn’t really matter as much  
Blaine: huh. I just remembered that you were at Puck’s party with her  
but I didn’t think you were really *with* her  
Matt: well, we didn’t GO together  
but we went together  
why is language so imprecise?  
Blaine: I know what you’re saying  
you arrived at the location together but it wasn’t a date  
but how did you end up arriving with her?  
Matt: well, she was just like “oh, I don’t remember where Puck lives, can I tag along with you?”  
and I was like “well, it’s not really tagging along, since I’m going alone.”  
and then I bitched for a little bit about how you were never around anymore  
Blaine: DUDE  
Matt: not like hardcore bitching  
I had already mentioned at some point that you were taking your setback really hard  
and that you were spending a lot of time with Kurt  
Blaine: you talked to her about my setback?  
Matt: well, I mean, it’s fairly common knowledge  
that you were back in speech therapy and stuff  
although you’re done now aren’t you?  
with group?  
Blaine: yes  
Matt: YES  
now you’ll have more time to be my friend!  
Blaine: eff you  
also, I’m sorry for neglecting you  
Matt: this really doesn’t have to turn into a hallmark moment  
but I swear as the time went on, I was neglecting you too  
because I didn’t want to tell you about Julia  
so I was kind of avoiding you  
Blaine: but why so afraid?  
Matt: well, the guilt, like everyone is going to think that I’m forgetting Kerry or something  
and the fact that you’re friends with Kerry  
Blaine: Your friends with Kerry too!  
Matt: my previous statement stands, it’s different  
and I don’t know, the fact that you hate Julia  
Blaine: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD  
I do not HATE Julia  
Matt: I know. I just like to make you angry  
I bet you would have yelled if we were together  
right, Blaine?  
Blaine: yes. I would have yelled  
Matt: YAY!!! I love when you yell  
Blaine: stop changing the subject  
and finish this story about your love affair with Julia  
Matt: okay, okay  
so, from Halloween on, we hung out a lot  
just like, I don’t know, getting take out, or going to the movies  
sometimes I’d go out with her and DiDi, and a couple of DiDi’s friends  
I don’t know  
it’s weird  
I don’t know why I didn’t tell you any of this  
Blaine: I can’t believe you hung out with DiDi, and fucking DiDi didn’t tell me  
Matt: well, DiDi thinks you’re mad at her  
Blaine: fuckkkkkkkkkk  
why?  
Matt: cause you weren’t talking to her  
Blaine: DUDE  
because I could BARELY TALK  
Matt: I know that  
but just give her a little extra loving when you get back to the city or something  
Blaine: yeah, you’re right  
I’ve been avoiding a lot of people  
Matt: when I’m done with this story can we talk about your speech for a minute?  
Blaine: if we must  
Matt: excellent  
anyway  
I guess we’re sort of half and half, who initiates hanging out  
Blaine: well that’s good  
but there’s been no indication that she might like you back?  
none whatsoever?  
what’s she like when you’re together?  
is she touchy feely or anything?  
Matt: like a normal amount  
this is so lame, but I guess we hug?  
Blaine: hugs are good  
do you ever talk on the phone?  
or communicate outside of just a random text?  
Matt: we talk on the phone  
a lot  
I feel like I always call her  
but she called me before  
Blaine: DUDE  
that’s something  
Matt: she also asked me to teach her to play the guitar  
Blaine: so she wants to spend time with you  
that’s good  
Matt: yeah  
but like  
Blaine: but like, nothing  
you’re being a baby  
Matt: no I’m not!  
Blaine: kind of. You’re being totally wussy about this  
Matt: But I have a very clear list of reasons to be wussy  
Blaine: really?  
Matt: Yes. Here is said list:  
1\. My fragile ego can not handle getting burned  
2\. I don’t want to fuck with our group dynamic  
3\. I really like being friends with her and I don’t want to ruin it  
4\. I’m finally happy again after Kerry leaving, and I don’t want to mess that up  
Blaine: okay, I suppose those are valid points  
Matt: thank you  
Blaine: so, keep your feelers out though  
I think she does like you  
She probably feels like you do though  
I mean, I don’t think she’s dated anyone since the whole thing with her ex  
and she’s fragile too  
Matt: yeah, you’re right  
eventually I’ll suck it up  
for now I’ll pine away from afar  
Blaine: except you aren’t afar asshole  
Matt: I’m pine away from anear  
Blaine: I’m shaking my head at you  
keep me posted on it though  
And allow me to help you woo her when it’s time  
Matt: YESSSSSSS   
it’s a bropointment for sure  
Blaine: You are lame.  
Matt: I am.  
so. your speech?  
how are you feeling about it?  
Blaine: well *CHAD* if you insist on knowing  
I feel better  
I think I’m pretty much back to where I was in July  
Matt: well that’s good  
I was kind of worried about you  
Blaine: that’s nice of you  
Matt: it is!  
don’t ever say I’m not nice to you  
Blaine: I have never once, in my entire life, said you’re not nice to me  
Matt: BECAUSE I’M AWESOME  
one other thing  
do you think you’ll relapse again someday?  
Blaine: I don’t know  
statistically, probably  
hopefully no  
I feel like next time I might be better equipped to catch myself  
now that I like, know the signs and symptoms  
and maybe not let myself ignore things  
Matt: What did you ignore?  
Blaine: one of the girls at camp made fun of my stutter.  
I was really embarrassed so I didn’t really talk about it  
Only mentioned it in passing to Kurt, and I emailed Kerry about it  
But I don’t think I realized how much it bothered me  
Matt: WHAT THE FUCK  
I WILL STAB HER IN HER SLEEP  
Blaine: I know, which is probably why I didn’t tell you  
It’s in poor taste to stab children  
even if they are bitches.  
Matt: That sucks Blaine.  
that really sucks.  
Blaine: I think it just made me feel really dumb  
and like worried about my speech in a way that I haven’t worried in years  
I think it shook me to the core, but then I didn’t *deal* with it  
I took care of it in the moment, and moved on  
which is a great way to be  
except that it really started eating away at me and I didn’t do anything about it  
I didn’t address it  
Matt: Make sense, stuttering is about more than the physical stutter  
Blaine: wait a second  
since when are you so interested in my speech?  
Matt: Since when are you so suspicious about my interest in your speech???  
can’t a guy just ask some questions?  
Blaine: um. Okay.  
Matt: can’t a guy just be concerned?  
I was worried about you  
and I missed you  
Blaine: thanks Matt  
I’m sorry again, for the millionth time  
Matt: you’re not allowed to apologize again  
Blaine: I WILL NEVER EVER APOLOGIZE TO YOU EVER AGAIN  
Matt: I don’t know why you insist on yelling Blaine  
Blaine: Because you’re aggravating  
I FEEL AGGRAVATED  
Matt: LOL  
Thanks for your help with the Julia thing, too  
I just want to talk about her like all the time  
and I feel so dumb  
and I don’t know what to doooooooo  
I’m so much cooler than this  
Blaine: well, yeah, you are  
Matt: dammit all to hell  
I just need to suck it up  
and figure out whether she likes me or not  
and then make a complete fool out of myself  
telling her that I like her too  
Blaine: that’s a terrible idea  
Matt: I know but it’s all I have right now  
Blaine: we’ll work on the plan  
I know we can do better than that  
Matt: probably not  
I’m a complete assclown when it comes to this stuff  
Blaine: You are not.  
Matt: I SO AM.  
and I’m like stupidly nervous  
Blaine: What do you have to be nervous about?  
Matt: Just because I don’t stutter, doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to be nervous  
Blaine: I know that  
but like  
it’s hard for me to imagine you being nervous  
not just because you don’t stutter  
but because you’re probably one of the most confident people on earth  
you’re like, nice to everyone, and everyone wants to be your friend  
and I don’t know, but it seems dumb to be nervous  
Matt: I wish I wasn’t nervous?  
if that helps  
Blaine: I guess, I understand everything else  
the not wanting to get burned  
and the not wanting to effect the group  
but don’t be nervous  
she’s your friend Julia!  
Matt: I know  
although it’s weird  
because I hadn’t admitted it to anyone  
and now it feels a hundred times more real  
Blaine: that *is* weird  
though I guess when you have something in your head, it’s abstract  
and now that it’s down on paper  
it’s real life  
Matt: true, very true  
alright  
Ryan is bugging the shit out of me to play xbox with him  
Blaine: go show him who’s boss  
Matt: he’s boss  
for sure  
Blaine: HA!  
Matt: Don’t tell him I said that though  
Blaine: later  
Matt: later


	21. Chapter 21

January 17th  
@10:41 am  
Kurt: I JUST GOT SUPER AMAZING NEWS.  
Kurt: AHHHHHHHHHHH.  
Kurt: I AM SO HAPPY.  
Kurt: I CAN’T WAIT TO TELL YOU ABOUT IT.  
Kurt: I <3 you & life & caps lock. :)

~~~~~

Kurt Hummel.

Oh, thank god.

Blaine?

Yeah. Hi.

Hey!

I, yeah, I um, I’m r-r-really glad I didn’t have to talk to a, a, a r-r-receptionist.

[Kurt chuckles.] Then I’m really glad, too.

I’m at lunch. And I w-w-w-wanted to hear your good news r-r-right away.

Oh! I feel like my good news is now you voluntarily using the phone.

Go fly a kite.

[Kurt giggles.]

So are, are, are you going to tell mmm-me? Or do I-I-I-I have to p-p-pry it out of you?

I’m just basking in the glow of hearing your voice in the middle of the day.

I’m going to, to, to hang up on you in a sssss-second.

Why is teasing you so much fun?

Be-be-be-be-cause you’re m-m-mean.

I am not.

I-I-I know.

Where are you?

Um. Hiding in a, a, a s-s-s-stairwell.

Ha!

I wah-was going to call you from, from, from, the teacher’s room, but there were, um, there were, um, too mmm-many people around.

I’m really happy you called.

I’m r-r-really happy I called, too.

So, news! I’m getting a promotion!

That’s awesome! I’m so happy for, for, for you dumdum!

Thanks. I’m going to be writing a blog. Like an advice blog for embarrassing situations. Where people send in their most embarrassing moments, and I make them feel better.

Huh. Cool. If you ever get a, a, a s-s-s-s-story about a b-b-boy who ran into a tiny ssssss-sapling while jogging, and then had his crush find him bl-bl-bleeding on the curb, let mmm-me know.

That story sounds familiar.

I-I-I don’t know why. It’s not a real story. I-I-I-I can’t remember anything like that happening. Certainly not, not, not to mmmm-me.

Certainly not. You have far better reflexes than that.

I, um, I want to take you out for, for, for d-d-d-dinner to celebrate. And you can tell me all about it.

Excellent. Can we have Thai food?

Of course.

WIll you buy me a Thai iced tea?

I will b-b-b-buy you a flobbity jillion Thai iced teas.

Will you show me your love via purchase of Thai iced teas?

[Blaine makes sure no one’s around in the stairwell, and then drops his voice to a low whisper.] I will show you my love via blow jobs even.

[Kurt laughs out loud and then stifles himself.] You are a bad man. Talking about stuff like that in the stairwell of a middle school.

I’m sure this st-st-st-stairwell has heard worse. But I-I-I should get going.

Okay. Love you poop.

Love you more, dumdum.

Impossible.

Because it’s a competition.

Oh, for sure. We are in the Olympic finals of love. Although a surprise phone call in the middle of the day might really help you take the lead.

Good to know. [The smile in Blaine’s voice makes Kurt feeling like crying for a second.]

Bye, Blaine.

Bye, Kurt.

~~~~~

Kurt exits his building later that night, and inhales the cold January night air. He loves how even in January, when it gets dark so early, it never seems dark in the city. He blows out a puff of breath, watching it curl in the air, and then bounces down the steps of his building.

Tonight Kurt feels like celebrating. Things have been rough for past few months. Everything has felt too real, and too hard. Blaine had been so sad for so long. But the unexpected phone call today meant so much to Kurt. And the unexpected phone call on top of his own good news makes Kurt feel like he can’t stop smiling. He even left work early so he could go home and shower, pampering himself for his date with Blaine.

When Kurt peers down the street, Blaine is less than a block away. They both wave enthusiastically, Kurt’s mostly a gentle ribbing on how wildly Blaine waves. He sees Blaine’s face break into a wide grin as he quickens his pace. Kurt walks forwards, and Blaine meets him halfway, scooping him up briefly and spinning him around.

Kurt literally has to hold onto his hat, and squeals, “Whoa, poop!”

Blaine lowers him down to the ground and kisses him, Kurt’s breath quickly warming Blaine’s cold face.

“Hey,” Blaine whispers, eyes alight.

“Hiya,” Kurt says.

“I’m awfully proud of mmmm-my fella,” Blaine tells him.

“Oh, yeah? Who is this fella you speak of?” Kurt asks, putting a pensive finger to his own lips. “You should introduce us. I have a fella I’m proud of too, perhaps we should double date.”

“Why are you so s-s-silly?” Blaine asks, his voice serious, his face anything but.

“Honestly? I’m in really good mood.” Kurt says, as they turn in the direction of Thai restaurant several blocks over.

Blaine slips his arm through Kurt’s as they set off.

“So, tell me everything,” Blaine says.

“Okay, so a couple times a week, sometimes more, we get emails to the general advice column about really embarrassing moments.”

“Oh man, those must be, be, be tough to read,” Blaine muses. “I have a lot of … of trouble with s-s-secondhand embarrassment.”

“You have no idea. Sometimes I can’t quite look at them. But sometimes they’re just awesomely funny, and the girls obviously just want to share their embarrassment.”

Blaine nods along, not even noticing the cold, as though Kurt’s enthusiasm is enough to keep them both warm.

“So, yesterday we got a letter about a girl who has a crush on her stepbrother, and how she doesn’t know what to do about it yada, yada, yada. And I read it and I said ‘Oh, believe me, I’ve done worse.’ And my boss laughed, and asked for the story.”

“I-I-I-I love that you had a s-s-s-story for this. Too funny.”

“Exactly. So I told her about Finn, and how I liked him so much that I set up our parents, and she said that it seemed like I could really help this kid. And then she started showing me other ones they’ve gotten, and I had a story for almost all of them. Which really doesn’t say much about my life, but whatever.”

Blaine pinches Kurt’s arm through his many layers.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“A. you know that d-d-d-didn’t hurt. B. No one is allowed to, to, to, to be mean to mmm-my dumdum,” Blaine explains.

“I’m not being mean, I’m being self-deprecating. And before you say anything else, I’m pretty sure every single time I’ve ever complimented you, you’ve thrown it away like it’s an empty sentiment.”

“I-I-I don’t throw them away,” Blaine pouts. “I store them in a tiny jar in my b-b-b-brain and take them out when I need them.”

“Oh my god, you are just the cutest thing that has ever happened to life,” Kurt says.

As they approach the restaurant, Blaine quickens his pace to get in front of Kurt and hold the door. When Kurt passes through, he pauses to smack a quick kiss on Blaine’s lips.

“You really are the cutest,” he says airily over his shoulder.

They pause at the host stand to wait their turn, and Blaine kicks shyly at the carpet.

And then he looks up with a mischievous grin.

“Yes, you’re right. I-I-I really am the cutest,” Blaine admits with an eye roll.

“Poop! I’m so proud of you for admitting it!” Kurt says, giving Blaine a light slap on the back.

Blaine just grins.

They’re directed to a table then, a small one in the corner, intimate and candle lit. As they sit reading the menu, Kurt slips his shoe off under the table, and runs a socked toe up Blaine’s pant leg.

“Whoa!” Blaine exclaims, glancing over at Kurt and blushing.

“Sorry,” Kurt says.

“No need for s-s-s-sorry, just a, a, a, a little surprised,” Blaine responds, taking Kurt’s hand across the table and lacing their fingers together.

“Sorry, are my toes cold?” Kurt asks.

“No, not at all. Wanna get two things and sp-sp-split them? Because I can’t decide be-be-be-between, ah, ah,” Blaine pauses. “Well, your foot just w-w-went very high.”

“I know. I have excellent foot dexterity.”

“That should not be half as sexy as it sssss-sounds to me.”

“What’s the bathroom like in this place?”

“What? Why?” Blaine inquires.

“I don’t know. Sometimes a fella’s looking for some privacy,” Kurt inches his chair closer to Blaine, and lifts his foot higher.

“It should be gross that you’re touching mmmm-me with your s-s-s-sweaty sock that you’ve had on all day, even if it is over my pants, and yet it isn’t,” Blaine tells Kurt.

“I showered when I got home, so these socks are clean. And my feet don’t sweat, they retain heat.”

“Ha,” Blaine breathes out, Kurt trailing his toe down his thigh. “So do you w-w-want to go?”

“We could order and then go fool around in the bathroom,” Kurt murmurs.

Blaine’s eyes go wide, and he blinks half a dozen times at Kurt. It’s not nerves though, it’s shock.

“This from the, the, the guy who normally won’t even use public ba-ba-ba-bathrooms?”

“I use them!” Kurt says indignantly.

“How about we get this st-st-st-stuff to go? And head back to, to, to your place?”

“Rachel’s there.”

“How about we get this stuff to go and head back to mmmm-my place?”

“Matt’s not there?”

Blaine knows that Matt’s not there, or at least he shouldn’t be. He knows that Matt had plans with Julia tonight. But he’s still keeping that a secret for Matt, so instead Blaine just nods.

At that moment their waitress arrives to take their order, and Kurt leaves his foot propped on Blaine’s chair, squarely between his legs as they order their Thai iced teas, pineapple fried rice, and pad-see-ew.

“To go!” Blaine adds in a strangled voice, as Kurt’s foot travels again.

“Yes, sorry about that,” Kurt says smoothly. “We have to get home.”

“Oh no!” the waitress exclaims. “I hope everything is okay?”

“Fire!” Blaine yelps, Kurts toes sneaking under his thigh this time.

“Baby,” Kurt says at the same time.

“Your baby is on fire?” the waitress asks confused.

“Um, no. Um,” Blaine splutters, completely at a loss for words.

“No, no. Something suddenly came up!” Kurt says, grinning warmly.

“Okay, 15 minutes,” the waitress says as she walks away.

“Something suddenly came up,” Blaine hisses.

“Well, yeah. It’s not a lie right, poop?” Kurt asks innocently.

Blaine throws his hands up in surrender.

~~~~~

Announcing a new feature on teenvogue.com!!!

“Believe Me, I’ve Done Worse: Embarrassing confessions! by K.H.”

Every day, K. will read and answer one of your most embarrassing moments and will undoubtedly make you feel better.

Because everybody’s been there.

~~~~~

They decide to grab a taxi to Blaine’s, to expedite the process. Kurt keeps his hands to himself when he gets an alert on his phone.

“Oh! Look! They put an announcement already about my blog,” Kurt exclaims. “That was really quick.”

Blaine leans over to the look at Kurt’s screen. “That’s so awesome, dumdum,” Blaine says giving Kurt a light peck on the cheek. “Or should I-I-I say K.H.”

“Yes, that’s me. They figured the girls would warm up to me quicker if I wasn’t a boy.”

“So, pretty much the, the, the opposite of J.K. Rowling.”

“Yes, from now on please refer to me as Teen Vogue’s antithesis to JK Rowling.”

“I shall,” Blaine says as they get out of the cab.

Blaine leads Kurt up the stairs, pulling him in for another kiss as he inserts his key into the lock, Kurt unwinding Blaine’s scarf as they stumble into the living, almost crashing to the floor.

“Oh, hi,” a voice behind them says.

They break apart and find Matt and Julia in the living room, cleaning up take out of their own from the coffee table.

“Hey,” Kurt says cheerfully.

“Hello,” Blaine greets raising an eyebrow at Matt. “I-I-I thought you were going out?”

“I thought you were going to be at dinner?” Matt volleys back.

“Yeah, um, well,” Blaine stammers.

“Something suddenly came up!” Kurt supplies.

“Are you quoting Greg Brady?” Julia asks.

“Not on purpose,” Kurt says, coming back to his full mind, and walking over to give Julia a hug. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Kurt and Julia chat for a moment while Blaine goes to put their dinners in the fridge for now.

Matt comes up behind him. “I thought you’d would be out longer!”

“We were out. We just decided not to s-s-s-stay out,” Blaine explains.

Matt looks at him confusedly. “Am I currently cockblocking you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Fellatio?”

“Perhaps,” Blaine repeats with a smirk.

“Well, we’re going out anyway. DiDi found this half price karaoke sushi bar that she keeps yelling about.”

“I don’t know which is half price though,” Julia says from the kitchen doorway.

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees. “Discount sushi mmmm-might not b-b-b-be the way to go.” He smiles at her. He hasn’t seen her since Matt’s confession, and Blaine can sense that there’s something between them. Something that isn’t fully manifested yet, but Julia has a certain comfortable air around Matt that Blaine hadn’t noticed previously.

“You guys want to come?” Julia asks.

“Well, we have dinner, but maybe we’ll meet up with you later?” Kurt offers, from behind Julia, making a wide, pleading eyed facial expression, silently begging Blaine for them to stay in.

“Yeah,” Blaine says, nodding vigorously at Kurt. “We’ll text you if we’re gonna come out, but we b-b-bo-bo-both have w-w-w-work tomorrow.”

“Damn you and your work,” Matt says, shaking his fist.

Within two minutes Matt and Julia are out the door.

“Was that weird?” Kurt asks, his voice muffled by his shirt going over his head, as they make their way to Blaine’s bedroom.

“What do you mmm-mean?” Blaine counters, toeing off his shoes, and unbuttoning his shirt.

Kurt slides his pants off, pulls down Blaine’s blankets, and crawls onto the bed. Blaine joins him there a moment later. Kurt inches towards Blaine, Blaine’s arm going around him, and their legs tangling.

“I didn’t know they hung out,” Kurt says with a shrug.

“Yeah, s-s-s-sometimes. Not that often,” Blaine answers.

“Huh,” Kurt says pensively. “She never mentions him.”

Blaine files that away, not sure he should tell Matt this fact or not. Probably not.

“But she recently started talking about a guy,” Kurt continues. “A nameless guy. And when I asked her his name she shrugged it off, and got very coy about it.”

“Really? And you think it mmm-might be Matt?”

“I don’t know, whoever it is she likes him, I can tell,” Kurt says.

Blaine is actually fairly intrigued by this development, and needs to decide whether he can pass this intel onto Matt. It’s a gray area, he thinks. But more importantly, he and Kurt have other things they could be doing, so he decides to derail Kurt’s current train of thought.

“I think we should stop speculating about our friends’ love lives, and get down to the business of blow jobs,” Blaine whispers.

“Yes, good idea,” Kurt replies, voice husky, Matt and Julia far from his mind immediately.

Blaine’s mouth is on Kurt’s, pressing gently, and he brings their hips together.

“I like how we immediately got entirely naked for you to give me a blow job,” Kurt muses. “No ceremony whatsoever. You didn’t even try to seduce me.”

“Are you really talking right now?” Blaine mumbles into Kurt’s mouth.

“Yes, is it ruining your mojo?”

“I don’t even have a, a, a, a mo-mo-mojo,” Blaine says.

“Of course you do,” Kurt says, moving his hands to Blaine’s shoulders, as Blaine begins a trail of kisses down Kurt’s chest and stomach.

“Doubt it,” Blaine answers, in between licking a circle around Kurt’s belly button.

“Oh you do, let me tell you do,” Kurt says, dancing his fingers across Blaine’s neck.

Blaine stops and looks at Kurt seriously. “Please dah-don’t. I am currently trying to mmm-make you come apart at the s-s-s-seams. You should not have the mmmmm-mental acuity to be giving me a thesis on my, my, my mojo.”

“You said come,” Kurt giggles.

“What the hell?” Blaine says with a smile, leaning back on his haunches. “You were literally fondling my b-b-b-balls with your foot at the restaurant and now I’m trying to pleasure you, and you’re laughing at mmmm-me!”

Kurt clears his throat, and wipes the smile off his face.

“Okay, okay, no more fun. Please make me come apart at the seams.”

So, Blaine does.

~~~~~

So, my parents got divorced when I was really young, and now my mom just got remarried to a guy that has a son who’s two years older than me. I have the hugest crush on him and I just want to be around him all the time. So, the other day I told him I liked him, and I tried to kiss him. He rejected me, saying he thinks of me as just a little sister. But now I don’t know what to do! I’m so embarrassed, and I live with him! Ughhhhh.

-Mortified in Mississippi, 14

Dear Mortified,

BELIEVE ME I’VE BEEN THERE. Oh, have I been there.

In high school, I had such a huge crush on a guy that I actually set our parents up on a date so that I could see more of him. I tried to woo him over and over again, to no avail. And then our parents, his mom and my dad, actually FELL IN LOVE AND GOT MARRIED.

Talk about mortifying.

The good news is that today, I really do think of him as a brother. And we get along like siblings. It might take a while, and it suck for now, but the moral of the story is that I got through it and so can you.

<3 K.

~~~~~

January 20  
@ 4:48 pm  
Blaine: So I hear half price karaoke sushi is like the best thing ever.

5:07 pm  
DiDi: I’m sorry. Who is this?  
DiDi: I used to have a friend named Blaine, but apparently he forgot about me.

~~~~~

Hello?

Hi.

I thought you don’t talk on the phone.

I-I-I-I mmm-make exceptions when, when, when things are important.

Really? And why is this so important?

Be-be-be-be-cause I want to apologize for be-be-being a bad friend.

Aw, Blaine, I was teasing. I know you were dealing with your own shit. I just don’t want us to not be friends.

We’re s-s-s-still friends, I promise.

I don’t have a never ending supply of friends like you.

Oh, DiDi. I-I-I-I definitely don’t have a never ending ssss-supply of friends. I-I-I have like 12. And that’s including my b-b-b-boyfriend, and my former speech therapist, and the one that lives in Ecuador.

Okay, okay. I wasn’t really mad. Just, kinda sad.

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to mmmm-make you s-s-s-sad. I was just, I-I-I was having a, a, a really hard time.

I know. I get it. But I’m like a really good friend. I have really good references.

[Blaine laughs.] You never fail to mmm-make me laugh, I should have r-r-r-r-remembered that. I could always use more of, of, of that in my life. So, do, um, do you forgive me?

Of course, no question about it.

Good.

So, karaoke sushi is amazing.

I-I-I think you should take me there.

Yes! When?

I dah-dah-don’t know. Next weekend?

Awesome. What do you think of Mooooooolia?

Um, what’s Moooooolia?

You know Mulia. Matt and Julia, and the love they share.

Do they share love? He hasn’t s-s-s-said anything to me about them sharing love.

Well, not yet. They don’t share love yet. But they will soon. Mark my words.

Hopefully they’ll want to, to, to, to go to karaoke sushi, s-s-s-so then I can observe this almost love you sp-sp-speak of.

Oh, it’s wonderful. And then we can talk about them behind their back, and try to smoosh them together, and make them kiss.

I appreciate b-b-b-both your passion and eccentricity, DiDi.

Thank you, Blaine. I take that as a compliment.

So, w-w-we’re good?

Of course. I’m sorry I gave you the impression that we weren’t. I just missed you.

I mmmm-missed you too.

You have filled my heart with joy by calling me on the phone. I know that’s a big deal for you.

Um, kinda. But, um, yeah, um...

Blaine, it’s okay. We can hang up now.

Okay, cool. [His sigh of relief is audible.] Um, sorry about all the st-stuh-stuh-stuttering.

Oh for the love of God, Blaine. I don’t care about the stuttering!

Well, I m-m-m-mean...

No. You did really well, I swear.

Okay, um, thank you. Um. Text mmmm-me about karaoke sushi.

Sure thing!

Bye!

Bye!

~~~~~

My friend and I were at her house and her parents were out. We decided to break into the liquor cabinet because neither of us had ever really drank before. So we tried blackberry schnapps and drank it out of little bathroom cups. It was sort of gross. And then we got really hot, so we opened up all the windows in the house and went for a walk, even though it was January and only like 30 degrees outside. We didn’t even bring coats. And we were like a block from her house and this really hot senior drove up to us, and we ran away screaming because we thought he was like a sexual predator. But it turns out he was just wondering if we were okay, since we were outside in January and not wearing coats.

All this to say, I am never drinking again!

~Sober in South Dakota, 15

Dear Sober,

BELIEVE ME I HAVE BEEN THERE!

When I was a sophomore in high school, I turned to the drink. And I drank way too much.

At least you weren’t at school when this happened! I was at school, and my guidance counselor noticed I was drunk. And when she asked if I was okay, instead of answering I threw up on her shoes.

Now that was embarrassing.

<3 K.

~~~~~

January 23  
@ 11:24 am  
Julia: I was thinking that I’d like to take you out to celebrate when you finish your GREs.  
Julia: Even if you fail miserably.

11:26 am  
Matt: Oh yeah? :D  
Matt: I like that idea a lot.  
Matt: What did you have in mind?

11:31 am  
Julia: I don’t know, drinks?  
Julia: Or dinner? If that suits you.

11:33 am  
Matt: How about karaoke sushi? I challenge you to a sing off.

11:34 am  
Julia: Challenge accepted!

11:35 am  
Matt: Just me and you maybe?

11:36 am  
Julia: Sure! We don’t spend enough quality time together.  
Julia: Although DiDi will be PISSED if she ever finds out.

11:41 am  
Matt: Then it’ll be our little secret this time.

11:44 am  
Julia: That works for me.

~~~~~

11:58 am  
Julia: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

11:59 am  
DiDi: WHAT?

12:01 pm  
Julia: HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

12:03 pm  
DiDi: Julia are you butt texting me?

12:05 pm  
Julia: He wants to go to karaoke sushi just ME AND HIM.

12:06 pm  
DiDi: OMG OMG OMG

12:08 pm  
Julia: JUST ME AND HIM.  
Julia: HE’S SO CUTE.

12:09 pm  
DiDi: You said yes right?

12:11 pm  
Julia: Of course. I’m not an idiot.

12:13 pm  
DiDi: okay. so this is good? right?

12:14 pm  
Julia: yessssssss. But I don’t think he actually likes me.  
Julia: I think he just likes hanging out with me  
Julia: I think he was just really bored/lonely when Blaine was in his funk  
Julia: and now I’m just habit.

12:17 pm  
DiDi: Impossible.

12:18 pm  
Julia: Did you score any information from Blaine?

12:19 pm  
DiDi: No he’s as tight lipped as ever.

12:20 pm  
Julia: Damn him and propensity for silence.

12:22 pm  
DiDi: We’ll figure it out. I have a large stack of Glamour. We’ll scour it for advice about boys and we’ll take all the quizzes. That will be our research.

12:24 pm  
Julia: Excellent thinking.  
Julia: You’re the best!

12:26 pm  
DiDi: Yes. Yes I am. :)

12:27 pm  
Julia: Do you think it’s like a *date* date?

12:28 pm  
DiDi: I don’t know. Tough call. You guys were texting?

12:29 pm  
Julia: Yeah

12:31 pm  
DiDi: Show me the texts when you get here and we will decipher his boy code together!

12:33 pm  
Julia: Alright, cool. Leaving now!


	22. Chapter 22

I wanna have friends that I can trust,  
that love me for the man I’ve become not the man I was.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Blaine  
Date: Fri, Feb 17, 4:09 pm  
Subject: Not so easy.

Hey,

Sorry I haven’t written in a couple weeks. It’s been busy, getting back into the swing of student teaching, and still working at after care a couple days a week. I hope everything is good with you. I miss you a lot, and I wish you were here to talk to me right now.

Student teaching at a middle school is difficult for me. Much more difficult than I could have imagined. I see myself in too many of the student’s eyes.

I have trouble remaining objective.

I always knew I didn’t want to work in a middle school, but I figured it would be a good experience for student teaching since it has a clear expiration date. But it’s tough, Kerry, and it reminds me of the worst time in my life.

I think the good news is, I want to talk about it. I’m not folding in on myself. I find myself needing to talk about it. Although, I need to get my thoughts in order before I can do any real talking.

All this to say, don’t be shocked if you get a lot of lengthy and introspective emails from me this semester. Writing it out might help.

But for now, I think I need to play the piano.

Love, Blaine

~~~~~

I wanna have friends that will let me be  
all alone when being alone is all that I need.

~~~~~

Kurt’s at work for at least another hour or so, Matt is home for the weekend for his younger brother’s birthday. He could text Tina, or DiDi, or even Julia, but he thinks maybe what he needs is a piano.

He walks over to the English building. He hasn’t come here much lately. What used to be a weekly refuge, his port in the storm, hasn’t been as necessary. He hasn’t had as much time for it either, though he does try to come every once in awhile. He doesn’t want his piano skills getting rusty. Matt would never forgive him. (Matt insists that someday they’re going to start a band, Matt on guitar, Blaine on keyboard, somebody on drums.)

When Blaine gets to the basement, he’s relieved to find the piano unoccupied. He’s relieved to find the entire building mostly empty.

He starts playing a song that’s been stuck in his head all day. A song about who he was and who he is now.

It’s days like today that make Blaine feel wise beyond his years, a bit jaded, but somehow also incredibly young and inexperienced.

He doesn’t know what to do with the emotions he’s experiencing. He’d like to talk about them, talk through them, but he’s not quite there yet. He has more thinking to do first.

He’s been student teaching at a middle school for a little over a month. He likes his cooperative teacher, he likes all the teachers. He likes the principal. He likes 90% of the kids. He’s more comfortable there than he ever could have hoped to be.

Then there’s the 9% of the student population who are just horribly cruel. The kind of kids who aren’t even a little afraid of the adults. The kind of kids where you can see in their eyes that they live to pick off the weak from the crowd.

That last one percent are the small group of kids in the school who remind Blaine so much of himself at 12, 13, and 14 that it almost hurts to look at them. They are the loners, the weirdos, the outcasts. The Blahs.

There’s one kid in particular,James. He’s small, keeps to himself. He doesn’t have a stutter or anything, but Blaine can’t help but see himself when he looks at him. When he can bring himself to look him.

It’s the way he walks, not too slow, but not too fast.

The tiny smile he gets on his face when he gets back a good grade.

The way he keeps his head down, but his eyes moving.

The hunch to his shoulders when he leaves the classroom.

The way he ignores the other kids, in favor of doodling in his notebook.

These are all gestures that Blaine understands. These are all coping mechanisms that he would use when he was in middle school.

~~~~~

I wanna fit in to the perfect space,  
feel natural and safe in a volatile place.

~~~~~

It’s the first day of sixth grade, and Blaine is well aware that it’s going to be a long day. Still, he’s hopeful.

His town has six elementary schools but only two middle schools. There’s a chance today that he’ll make a friend. He tries not to think too hard about it, tries not to get too nervous, but the hope is so real, he can’t stop smiling.

He walks to the bus stop, wiping his face into a more neutral expression. No need to start the day with too dorky a grin.

There are only two or three other kids at the bus stop, but they all live in his neighborhood, and therefore he knows all of them. None of them are potential friends.

He takes a spot about five feet away, trying to stay out of their line of sight, hoping to stay out of earshot. He knows they don’t like him. He’s not really sure why, though. He’s nice, polite, quiet. On the other hand, he knows his speech annoys people, and he’s heard them call him a goody two shoes. One time in third grade he told on them for stealing his lunch. He never made that mistake again.

Luckily, they don’t notice him, and the bus pulls up. He lets them get on before him, and then scampers up the steps, and takes a seat three back from the bus driver. He doesn’t bother looking at the other kids on the bus. He just needs to settle in for now, try not to be so nervous.

Blaine went to speech therapy three times a week this summer, and he thinks he sounds a lot better than he did in June. He worked really hard, and even kind of likes his speech therapist. She’s not always nice, but she said he sees improvement in Blaine.

He sits quietly, watching the familiar streets go by, listening as the bus gets more and more full. At the third to last stop, it’s full enough that someone has to take the seat next to him. This is his big moment, he thinks. This is his time to shine.

A boy drops onto the seat next to him.

“Hey,” the boys says.

“Hi,” Blaine says, smiling and willing his eyes not to blink too much.

“Which elementary school did you go to?” the kid asks.

“Um, Eisenhower,” Blaine says. He’s off to a good start. An amazing start.

“Oh, I went to Roosevelt,” the kid tells him.

Blaine just nods and smiles.

“So, like, what’s your name? I’m Ben.”

“Oh, um, oh, I, I, I, well, I …” Blaine inhales a deep breath through his nose. He can do this, he’s going to do this. Even if he stutters it’s not a big deal. (Of course, in the back of his mind, all he can think of is that his potential new friend has a name that starts with “b” and that’s not very conducive to Blaine’s speech. But in the front of his mind, he reminds himself that they’ll never be friends if Blaine doesn’t say his own name soon.)

“Did you forget or something?” Ben asks with a grin. He’s not making fun of Blaine yet. Blaine still has a chance. He can turn this whole thing around.

Blaine squeezes his eyes shut, and puffs out his cheeks.

“Oh, you don’t want to talk to him,” Blaine hears a voice say from behind them.

“Yeah, he’s a weirdo,” chimes in another.

Blaine face is in flames, and Ben just stares at him. Blaine glances at the speakers, two kids from his neighborhood. They’re going to ruin everything.

“Is there something wrong with him?” Ben asks. Blaine can sense he’s losing Ben, he’s losing him that quickly, that easily. He never even had a chance.

“What’s wrong with Blah?” One of the neighborhood kid says to the other, and they both laugh.

“Blah?” Ben asks the guys behind them, but keeps his eyes on Blaine.

“Yeah, that’s his name. That’s what he says when you ask him his name.”

“Is he okay?” Ben asks.

Blaine looks at Ben, pleads with him silently. Just one more second, he could get his name out.

“Blah, blah, blah, Blah-blah-blaine.” Triumphant at last, Blaine thinks sarcastically.

The other guys laugh, mimicking his stutter. Ben nods, looking at Blaine curiously, but Blaine is too embarrassed to meet his eyes. He’s too embarrassed to notice that Ben doesn’t laugh along with the other guys.

They arrive at school, and Blaine lets all of the other kids off the bus before him, not noticing that Ben pauses at the front of the bus, waiting for Blaine for a few seconds before the bus driver shoos him out the door. Blaine leans his warm face against the cool glass for a moment before lifting his bag, and leaving the bus too.

He was so close. So very close.

~~~~~

And I wanna grow old without the pain,  
give my body back to the earth and not complain.  
Will you understand when I am too old of a man?

~~~~~

Blaine gets a text from Kurt.

5:07 pm  
Kurt: Hey poop. I’m leaving work soonishly (I hope). Are you around? Wanna do dinner?

Blaine stares at his phone for a few minutes. He does want to do dinner. He always wants to do everything with Kurt. But right now, he might need some more time to think.

5:14 pm  
Blaine: I’m playing the piano at the English building.  
Blaine: Instead of dinner, would you mind meeting me at open mic night?  
Blaine: Matt and I had a slot at 9, but with him out of town I was going to skip it.  
Blaine: But now I have a song I want to sing.

5:18 pm  
Kurt: Yeah sure! See you at 9. :)  
Kurt: Love you.

5:20 pm  
Blaine: Love you too.

Blaine goes back to playing.

~~~~~

And will you forget when we have paid our debt  
who did we borrow from? Who did we borrow from?

~~~~~

Blaine messes up sometimes. He knows it. He can’t help it. He’s not perfect. Obviously.

He’s in seventh grade, and sometimes it feels like he doesn’t have control over anything. Not his choices, not his mouth, not his brain, certainly not his life. So when his dad asks him to take the garbage out after dinner, he doesn’t do it immediately.

He was in the middle of something else. He wasn’t paying attention.

When he comes back downstairs later that evening, in search of a snack, he’s surprised when his dad corners him in the kitchen.

“Blaine, I thought I asked you to take the garbage out?” his dad says.

“Oh, um, yeah. I-I-I-I-I f-f-f-forgot,” Blaine says.

“Well, what if I started forgetting stuff. What if I forgot to go to work, or buy you clothes, or give you an allowance?” Blaine can tell his dad is mad.

“I-I-I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry,” Blaine mumbles, ducking his head.

His father pushes his shoulder. Hard enough to make Blaine whip his head up. Hard enough to make Blaine scared. Hard enough to make Blaine wonder where his mom is.

“Look at me when I talk to you,” his father says, holding a threatening finger in Blaine’s face.

Blaine tries to hold very still, but his eyes won’t stop blinking. What’s happening? How did this moment get so out of control? Blaine internally promises himself that he’ll never forget to take the garbage out again. He would tell his father that, but his mouth doesn’t seem to work right now.

“Well, do you have anything to say for yourself?” his father asks.

Blaine shakes head his, his eyes focused on his father’s mouth, not wanting to be accused of not looking at him, but entirely unable to meet his eyes.

“Then take the garbage out,” his dad says, his voice different. “Please.”

So Blaine does.

~~~~~

Okay part two now clear the house.  
The party's over take the shouting and the people,  
get out!

~~~~~

Blaine continues playing the piano. Continues thinking about the boy he was, and the man he thinks he’s becoming. The man who today turned a blind eye on a kid just like himself because he was afraid.

Blaine’s still so afraid. He’s just as afraid at 22 as he was at 12. And today solidified it.

He was coming out of the teacher’s lounge earlier, and James was at the end of the hall, getting books from his locker. It was after school, and the hall was empty. Blaine waved, and smiled. He stopped to tie his shoe, when two boys ran down the hall and knocked all of James’s books out of his hands.

They didn’t notice Blaine.

He’s not sure if his presence would have stopped them. He thinks it might have, but he had a panicky moment where thinking of calling out to them, yelling at them, made his throat constrict.

They were gone down the back stairwell before he could get his words together. Before he could be sure that his voice would work.

Blaine feels like he failed. He should have yelled after the two boys, gotten a better look at their faces, something. But what if, when he tried to talk to them, to yell at them, he stuttered? What if during reprimanding them his speech rebelled? What if they made fun of him?

He knows he has power, he knows he’s technically an authority figure. But he’s feeling pretty damn Blah right now.

Blaine walked down the hall to help James pick up his stuff.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine had said. “Do you, do you know their names?”

James had shrugged.

“They, um, they b-bother you a lot?”

And James had looked at him, smiled his weakest smile, and walked away with his head down.

Thinking about it now, Blaine leans his head in his hands, breathing deep breaths. He counts to ten, and checks his phone. He’s been playing for over an hour. He should go home, eat some dinner, head to the coffee house. But he needs to keep playing right now, he needs to keep the thoughts spinning in his head.

When the piano is quiet, his thoughts are too loud.

When the piano is loud, his thoughts are in harmony.

He needs to make some decisions, he knows that much. He can’t allow his own insecurities to keep him from being an effective educator. He can’t help but think this is what his parents meant several years ago when they sat him down at the kitchen table for a talk. A talk about how he thought he was going to get up every day in front of a roomful of kids, and find a voice.

Turns out that was not going to be an issue. He’s not exactly sure what the issue is though. He’s not sure what his problem is. He never wanted to work in a middle school, so he should be able to forget this and move on.

Maybe the reason he’s having so much trouble, is that he’s thinking that he should face his fears, and his weaknesses.

Maybe a middle school is exactly where he should be.

~~~~~

I have some business and a promise that I have to hold to.  
I do not care what you assume or what the people told you.

~~~~~

In seventh grade, after Blaine stops talking, his life takes on a different feel.

He’s less nervous, because he doesn’t talk. He doesn’t have to talk. There’s no reason for him to. Everything is clearer. And for a time people do pay less attention to him. He slinks through his days, almost invisible. It takes a lot of the pressure off.

Until one day in class, he forgets to look interested. He forgets to keep his eyes on the board, he forgets to follow the teacher’s movements around the room, he forgets to smile when she makes eye contact.

Those are all the ways to keep from being called on.

But one day, he forgets.

He’s doodling in his notebook, thinking about science class. Thinking about what Emily might say to him. Thinking about how maybe he’ll write her a note. Just to say hi. He won’t talk to her of course. But he’ll smile, and he’ll laugh, and he’ll do more than his fair share of their lab work. Those are his only ways of showing her how much he appreciates her.

“Blaine?” he hears his teacher say. He snaps to attention, and smiles brightly.

She asks him a question, but he doesn’t even hear it. He’s not going to answer it, so he might as well not even digest it.

She repeats it, he shrugs.

“Do you not know the answer?” she asks.

This is it, this is his way out. He shakes his head. He definitely doesn’t know the answer.

“Alright,” she says suspiciously. “But make sure you’re paying attention.”

She moves on. Blaine keeps his head up, his eyes interested.

Unfortunately it doesn’t last forever. Not all of his teachers are so forgiving.

A couple weeks into his silence, they start figuring it out. The phone calls home start, the questions from his mom, the reprimands from his dad. They tell him he has to talk, that he has no reason not to talk.

They don’t get it. He has every reason not to talk.

The problem is no one can hear him screaming.

~~~~~

Will you understand, when I am too old of a man?  
Will you forget when we have paid our debts,  
who did we borrow from? Who did we borrow from?

~~~~~

He wonders sometimes if his mom realizes that she saved his life sending him to Paula. Maybe not literally, but he’d be a much different person today, without Paula’s influence, support, and kind ear when he needed it most. No matter how resistant he was to the idea at first. Without having someone to talk to at that time in his life, Blaine would have …

He’s not sure what he would have done. He doesn’t want to go down that road.

But he’s a better person for it, no matter how much he didn’t want to go.

No matter how hard those first few sessions were.

His mom might have seemed like she was turning a blind eye to things at times, or Blaine might have perceived that she was on his dad’s side, but she wasn’t. She was doing her best with things. And sending him to therapy was her best move.

And then he remembers the way she told him she was proud of him when he left for college, how supportive she was when he came out. He thinks of what she might have been like the day she met his father playing badminton. Everyone makes decisions that they’re responsible for. His mom has probably had to make a lot of tough decisions in her life. He’ll have to ask her about that sometime.

He finishes playing the song one last time, and leaves the basement of the English building. The February air is cold, but not brutal, already the knife sharp edges of winter are receding.

He dials his phone.

“Hey mamacita, d-d-do you have a, a, a minute?”

~~~~~

I wanna have pride like my mother has,  
And not like the kind in the bible that turns you bad.

~~~~~

Blaine takes a deep breath and smiles at Kurt from the keyboard. He’s done several of his favorite songs tonight already. Angry Young Man, Pale Blue Eyes, How Do I Say Hello, and With a Little Help From My Friends, just to mix things up.

Now it’s time to get to the point. To sing the song that will hopefully start a conversation.

He pauses. He rarely speaks at open mic night, but tonight he thinks he needs to.

He licks his lips and reminds himself to speak slowly.

“Everything I sing is usually for Kurt ... but this one is especially important to me, and I hope,” he pauses, searching for Kurt’s eyes and smiles. “I hope he likes it.”

He blows out another deep breath, and smiles broadly. Not only did he speak, he didn’t stutter.

He starts the song.

~~~~~

And I wanna have friends that I can trust,  
that love me for the man I've become and not the man that I was.

~~~~~

When he finishes, Blaine thanks the crowd and walks over to Kurt.

He doesn’t take a seat, instead offering his hand.

“Come on, let’s go home,” Blaine says.

Kurt looks confused but takes Blaine’s hand and nods.

They walk silently back to Blaine’s. They enter his apartment and they take off the shoes. They snuggle onto the couch, sideways, facing each other. Kurt laces their fingers together, and kisses Blaine’s knuckles.

“So, what was the message?” Kurt asks, cupping his cheek. “I have a couple of theories.”

Blaine smiles and leans into the touch. “Like what kind of theories?”

“Nothing too specific. Like you had a bad day, or you’ve been thinking a lot about something. And then at one point during the song, I felt like it might have been about your dad. But I don’t know. It’s hard to put my finger on it. I can’t actually read your mind.”

Blaine chuckles and lets his eyes drifts close. He squeezes Kurt’s hand and begins to talk.

“I-I-I didn’t have a bad day, so much as a rough day, a rough couple of weeks even. And I feel like I need to make some d-d-decisions,” Blaine explains. “About my future. And I think I need to go b-b-back to therapy.”

“But your speech is like perfect,” Kurt says, running a hand through Blaine’s hair.

“Thank you,” Blaine says, sincerely, looking Kurt in the eye, and blushing a little. “But not that kind. I mmm-mean like, Paula therapy.” His eyes fall to the ground, he’s so afraid of how Kurt might react to this. His chest is tight with anxiety.

“Okay,” Kurt says. He chews his lip for a minute. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Blaine says honestly. “I’m better than fine even.”

“Can you explain this a little more to me?” Kurt asks, curious, but by no means judgmental.

“Well, I’m conflicted about things. And I-I-I-I feel like...” he squeezes his eyes shut briefly. “And I feel like my past kind of follows me like a, a, a ghost. I’m seeing my younger self everywhere these days. I don’t w-w-want to ignore him. I-I-I want to explore why I’m feeling like this.”

“I can help you explore,” Kurt says, smiling gently, his words and demeanor so kind, his thumb brushing along Blaine’s jaw.

“I know,” Blaine pauses, collecting the thought that nags at him. “But it’s like, when I was at the worst of my r-r-r-relapse, you were pretty much the only person I could talk to. Like the only person I could physically s-sp-speak to at times. And I, I, um, I felt myself even pulling away from you. I need to have ssss-someone else. And I know a therapist could do that. Could be that other ear that I need.”

Kurt’s nodding. “That makes sense. I just … I hate to think of you struggling,” Kurt says shaking his head, feeling a lump growing in his throat.

“I’m not s-st-st-struggling really. It’s mmm-more like. I just need this. The more I talk, the b-b-better I am. And the more people I have to talk to, to rely on, well, that can only, only be a good thing. It’s like a, um, a preemptive s-s-st-struh-rike.”

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Kurt asks, his mind racing, trying to think of any changes in Blaine recently and coming up empty handed. He worries that he’s been so preoccupied at work that he’s been missing cues from Blaine.

Blaine shrugs. “Just today.”

Kurt breathes a sigh of relief. “You promise I’m not oblivious to your feelings or something?” he asks.

“Cross my heart,” Blaine insists.

“Okay, good,” Kurt says, much less worried. “You’re sure you’re fine right now? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I am fine, I-I-I-I just had a hard day. And being around you helps, always,” Blaine sighs, thinking about James again. “Middle school, even the s-s-s-second time around, is not easy.”

“How about I give you a massage, and you tell me all about it?”

Blaine leans his forehead against Kurt’s and sighs.

“Thank you so much,” Blaine whispers.

“I haven’t even massaged you yet,” Kurt says.

“You know what I mmm-mean.”


	23. Chapter 23

“Do you think I should ask her out?” Matt inquires, out of the blue one Saturday in late March. The boys are messing around with their guitars, as a cold rain falls outside. They have plans with everyone to go to karaoke sushi later, but for now they’re both happy just to be at home.

“Who?” Blaine asks, looking mischievously over at Matt. Of course he knows exactly who Matt’s talking about. It’s the only “her” he’s talked about for the past three months.

“For a second I thought you were serious, and I was like ‘dammit dude, don’t you listen to anything I say?’”

“Of course I-I-I think you should ask her out,” Blaine replies, ignoring Matt’s comments.

“What if she says no?” Matt questions.

“What if she s-s-says yes?” Blaine counters

Matt leans his head back on the couch and groans. “I just don’t want to lose our friendship. I don’t know if asking her out is worth jeopardizing what we have.”

“I get that. But I dah-dah-don’t know that it’s completely valid,” Blaine tells him earnestly.

Matt strums several sad chords.

“I think you mmm-might be wussing out,” Blaine continues.

“I’m not wussing out. She might say no.”

“Let’s pretend she s-s-says yes,” Blaine offers. “Where are you going to, to, to take her?”

Matt grins. “To the MOMA.”

“Hasn’t she b-b-been to the MOMA like a hundred times?”

“Sure, but never with my incredible narration.”

Blaine raises an eyebrow.

“I went through the museum, and I’ve prepared a narrative just for her. My own color commentary, if you will.”

“I don’t even know what to, to, to say.”

“Say I’m brilliant.”

“You actually kinda are,” Blaine admits.

“And then I figure I’ll take her someplace classy for drinks.”

“So that’s your Julia dream d-d-date?”

Matt nods.

“It’s good. I-I-I like it. You should totally ask her out.”

“I need to make sure she knows that it’s a date and not just hanging out.”

“Well, yeah, that’s why you use the w-w-word ‘date.’” Blaine finger quotes for emphasis.

“We already use the word date sometimes.”

“Then, like, say it with mmmm-more mm-meaning,” Blaine says.

“Yeah. I’ll say like a date date.”

“Precisely,” Blaine affirms. He’s happy that Matt seems to be coming around to the idea.

They play for a couple minutes, different songs, just messing around, riffing off each other, like they’ve done pretty much since the day they met. Then Matt stops playing and groans loudly.

“But what if she says no?” Matt whines.

“Are we really b-b-back to this?” Blaine asks, squinting over at Matt. “I hate to break it to you, b-b-but I think you’re an assclown.”

~~~~~

March 25  
@ 3:48pm  
Julia: It’s probably time.

4:22 pm  
DiDi: Time for what? I was taking a nap in preparation for karaoke sushi.

4:23 pm  
Julia: TIME TO TELL HIM HOW I FEEL

4:24 pm  
DiDi: OMG WHAT ARE YOU SERIOUS YOU HAVE TO TELL AND I WANT TO WATCH.  
DiDi: I mean. Sure Jules. What a great idea!

4:25 pm  
Julia: My plan is to get drunk and sing to him.

4:27 pm  
DiDi: That sound you just heard was me facepalming.

4:28 pm  
Julia: It’s a good idea!  
Julia: He loves music.  
Julia: He’ll love that I’m singing to him

4:31 pm  
DiDi: Okay. I agree to a point.  
DiDi: But it’s not really going to work if you take it too seriously  
DiDi: Or if you like call him out when you start.  
DiDi: I think if you’re going to do this you just need to sing and make a lot of eye contact.  
DiDi: and hope he gets the message.

4:33 pm  
Julia: What if he doesn’t get the message?

4:34 pm  
DiDi: Then maybe he doesn’t like you?

4:35 pm  
Julia: What if I did it like Marla Hooch?

4:37 pm  
DiDi: I’m singing for you Nelson, ain’t I baby.

4:38 pm  
Julia: EXACTLY

4:40 pm  
DiDi: Well, for starters, you’re way hotter than Marla Hooch.

4:41 pm  
Julia: Thank you DiDi

4:42 pm  
DiDi: also I think you’d have to be SUPER drunk to get there.  
DiDi: What are you thinking about singing?

4:44 pm  
Julia: I don’t know.  
Julia: The past couple of times we went I’ve been scouring the books for the perfect song.  
Julia: Any ideas?

4:48 pm  
DiDi: Bubbly by Colbie Caillat.

4:49 pm  
Julia: Slow clapping.  
Julia: you are a genius.

4:51 pm  
DiDi: FINALLY SOMEONE ACKNOWLEDGES IT!

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Matt  
Date: Sat, Mar 23, 7:48  
Subject: confession

Hey,

I’m not sure this is fair, but I need to tell you something. Because I’m feeling sort of guilty about it. And you might think this is a little selfish, or even a lot selfish, but if I don’t tell you, I’ll feel like I’m hiding something important from you.

And if we really are supposed to be friends, as we have so often assured each other during the past 9 and a half months, then this is something I need to tell my friend Kerry.

I’m going to ask Julia out.

I hope you don’t hate me. However, I’m pretty sure one of the reasons I haven’t actually asked her out yet is because of some sense of loyalty to you. Which isn’t really fair to any of us in the equation.

So, yeah. I guess that’s it?

Thank you for your time?

Miss you. :)

~~~~~

Karaoke sushi is pretty much just what it sounds like. By day, it’s a Japanese buffet, featuring a wide array of sushi. After 10 o’clock, the buffet is half price, there are great drink specials, and there’s karaoke.

Over the past several months it’s become part of the routine. Every week or two, someone in the group gets a craving for karaoke sushi. Usually DiDi. DiDi is a karaoke sushi maniac. She’ll sing with anyone, any song, any time. Sometimes she does solos, sometimes duets, sometimes group numbers.

Blaine thinks she might go there sometimes by herself just to sing. He’s heard Kurt and Rachel discuss more than once how they could have used her enthusiasm in glee club in high school.

“Her voice isn’t great,” Rachel always says.

“But her stage presence makes up for it tenfold,” Kurt always finishes.

And it’s true. She’s a delight to watch.

Tonight, she and Julia get there before everyone else, and DiDi takes the first open slot.  
They sit through a really painful rendition of John Denver’s “Country Road” by the restaurant owner’s wife, and then a couple of the regulars do “Sweet Home Alabama.” While that’s going on, the rest of group files in. Blaine immediately signs up for a karaoke slot. He’s in the mood to sing, and he’s had a song stuck in his head all day.

Everyone else takes their time, flipping through the book, trying to decide what the perfect song for the evening will be. Matt and Puck eventually decide they want to do a duet, though they’re not sure what song, something manly and awesome for sure.

~~~~~

A moment of Julia

Oh god, Matt looks adorable tonight.

~~~~~

A moment of Matt

Why is Julia looking at me like that?

Can she read my mind? Does she know I’m planning on asking her out?

What if she says no?

~~~~~

A moment of DiDi

They both look constipated.

~~~~~

DiDi’s singing “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” while Matt and Puck fight with Julia and Rachel about the lyrics to a song that Blaine has never heard of. Apparently it’s worth a bet, and whatever humiliation Julia and Rachel might dole out.

“Fine,” Rachel says to the boys. “If Julia and I are right, you guys have to sing a song of our choosing.”

“Oh, no, we’re right,” Matt says. “I’m more than willing to bet on it.”

“Totally. And fuck, if Matt and I win, we get to choose a song for you two,” Puck adds.

When DiDi throws herself back into the booth after her enthusiastic Taylor Swift impersonation, Blaine looks over at her.

“What’s up with the ssss-song?” he asks.

“My betta fish and I have been having a tough week,” she replies.

“I can never tell if, if, if, if you’re seriously or not,” Blaine says.

“You’ll know when I’m serious. I promise.”

Blaine smiles. He likes DiDi more every day.

Someone else (as in, not part of their group) sings after DiDi, giving Blaine the 3 minutes and 37 seconds he needs to down a drink before he makes his debut that evening. He’s been working his way through his favorite Bruce Springsteen songs the past couple of weeks, perfecting his Bruce voice. And now it’s time to sing a true classic.

When it’s his turn, he gets up and waves at the crowd. The chords start and he smiles.

In the day we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream  
At night we ride through the mansions of glory in suicide machines

Blaine loves karaoke almost as much as open mic night. He likes singing and being ridiculous. It’s fun, it’s silly, and he relishes every minute of it. He’s winking at middle aged women, and getting deep into his Bruce impersonation.

He turns his attention to Kurt, prancing and preening, strutting his stuff for his boyfriend, who obliges with blown kisses and giggles.

Honey, tramps like us  
Baby we were born to run

He finishes with a flourish, returning to the booth, Kurt offering to go get them more drinks while Blaine sucks on the ice left from his first drink.

“You are a wonderful Bruce,” Kurt whispers, kissing the shell of Blaine’s ear as he gets up to go to the bar.

Much to their chagrin, Matt and Puck end up on stage singing “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers.” They’re shockingly good. They were wrong about the song lyrics, the girls were right, and they take their punishment with little complaint.

Kurt comes back, mid-performance, with drinks. He settles next to Blaine, his arm along the back of the booth.

“I have a confession,” he murmurs seriously to Blaine.

Blaine looks at him wide eyed.

“Two confessions even,” Kurt amends.

Blaine makes his eyes go wider.

“One, I had two shots at the bar. The guy made too many for the person before me, so I had to take one for the team. Two, Matt is doing a stunning Barbra right now. I mean, really, he is just a renaissance man.”

“One,” Blaine holds up a finger. “I can’t believe you did shots without mmm-me. You’re gonna get so drunk! And two, really, I-I-I have no idea how he’s doing this so well.”

Kurt nods enthusiastically, already feeling the warmth of the alcohol flowing to his limbs.

“I’m going to finish this drink, and then I’m going to do a, a, a, a shot. I think we should try to stay at equal levels of d-d-dru-drun-unkenness tonight.”

Instead of replying, Kurt gives him a wet kiss on the cheek.

“That should be gross,” Blaine says, “But I love your sss-spit.”

Kurt takes the opportunity to lick Blaine’s cheek.

Blaine winces, smiles, and licks Kurt’s cheek back.

“So, that’s the kind of night it’s gonna be?” Blaine asks when he pulls back.

Kurt just raises his eyebrows mischievously and finishes his drink.

“Hurry up slow poke,” Kurt prods. “Let’s go do shots! Or sake bombs!”

“What’s gotten into you tonight?” Blaine asks, smiling.

“I dunno,” Kurt shrugs. “I’m just in the mood to drink.”

“I-I-I signed up to do a d-d-duet with DiDi,” Blaine mentions as they walk towards the bar.

“Oh, yeah? What are you guys gonna sing?” Kurt pauses. “And why didn’t you sign us up for a duet?”

“Why don’t you go ssss-sign us up, and I’ll order drinks?” Blaine suggests.

Kurt scurries away, and Blaine orders himself a SoCo and lime, the only shot he can think of off the top of his head.

Matt sidles up next to him. “I need to get drunk.”

“Maybe getting drunk and asking Julia out isn’t actually the b-b-best idea.”

“Like I should go ask her out now? Before I’m drunk?”

“Like, mmm-maybe you should just hang out with her tonight, and then ask her out s-s-s-some other time.”

“But now I have myself all psyched up for it,” Matt whines, nervously tapping his fingers on the bar. “I’m up after Tina.”

Blaine nods, not connecting Matt’s slightly drunk dots.

“Maybe I should sing something meaningful?”

Before Blaine can say anything, Kurt’s at his side. “Meaningful how?” he asks, and Matt whips his head up.

“Oh, you know, um,” Matt looks panic stricken. “Meaningful to me.”

Kurt gives him a suspicious look, and Matt practically runs away.

Tina finishes “Bottle it up” by Sara Bareilles to fairly enthusiastic applause, and Matt jumps on stage, still looking vaguely terrified.

He busts into a rendition of Nelly’s “Hot in Here,” and Kurt starts laughing hysterically.

“Oh, Matt,” Kurt giggles. “Too funny. Very meaningful.”

Blaine just shakes his head. Matt is really not very slick.

After that Kurt’s drunkenness really kicks in. When they go back to the table, they slide in towards the middle, and Kurt throws his legs over Blaine’s lap, winding his arm around Blaine’s neck, sipping vigorously on the tiny straw in his mai tai.

He looks at Blaine curiously.

“What?” Blaine asks, a grin breaking onto his face.

“Why are you so doggone cute?” Kurt says.

“Did you just use the w-w-w-word doggone?”

“I did. I am fond of that word.”

Blaine noses at Kurt’s neck, inhaling his scent and then leans his cool cheek on Kurt’s flushed one.

“What s-s-song do you want to sing?” Blaine asks.

“Something with the word ‘doggone’ in it?” Kurt suggests.

All too soon Blaine has to get up to sing with DiDi, who’s decided they should sing the Seals & Croft classic “Summer Breeze.”

Kurt wanders off to chat with Tina and Rachel, asking if they want to do a duet. Rachel is insistent that she has to save her voice for her audition on Monday, but Tina considers it. Puck is at the bar doing sake bombs with Japanese businessmen.

Matt and Julia are alone at the booth for the first time that night.

His arm is up along the back of the bench behind her, and their knees are touching. They’re sitting intimately, though they haven’t really said much to each other.

“So,” he says.

“So,” she repeats, looking at the table.

He thinks about dropping his arm around her shoulders but stops himself. For the millionth time. Why is he always stopping himself? He’s not sure.

They watch Blaine and DiDi mug on stage, DiDi doing all of the instrumentals as though they’re words in the song.

“They’re funny,” Matt says, gesturing towards Blaine and DiDi.

“They are,” Julia agrees. “We’re funny too.” Tossing a shy glance towards Matt.

“We totally are. No one appreciates our humor.” He holds her eyes for what feels like too long, even though it really isn’t. He drops his gaze and spins his empty beer bottle on the table.

“You know, your song really only pointed out one thing to me,” Julia says.

Matt looks over at her, nervously, but he’s not sure why. “What?” he asks quietly.

“That it’s actually quite chilly in here.”

Matt laughs heartily.

“It’s not that funny,” she says.

“Sure it is,” he replies. He drops his arm around her shoulders and pulls her a little closer. “It’s okay, I’ll warm you up!” He says brightly, trying to sound casual, though feeling anything but.

He heaves a sigh of a relief when she leans her cheek on his chest and threads her arms around his waist, shivering slightly.

~~~~~

A moment of drunk Kurt

I knew something was up with Matt and Julia! Look at them cuddling over there!

Where’s Blaine? I have to tell Blaine.

Oh, there he is.

I probably shouldn’t tell him while he’s singing.

~~~~~

“Thanks, I’m really cold,” Julia says.

He rubs her arm. They stay like that for a couple minutes, both a little stiff, not quite fully relaxed. This isn’t something they do. It’s new territory. A little foreign, even with both of them slightly drunk, it feels like they’re on a precipice.

They sit through Puck singing “You Shook Me All Night Long,” and all too quickly Julia retreats from his arms.

“My turn!” she exclaims. She stands up and looks at him for a minute, before leaning her knee back on the booth, and dipping her head to his ear. “This is for you,” she whispers.

She’s gone before he can answer.

Julia steps on stage and takes a deep breath.

She’s not sure why she’s doing this. She doesn’t have to do this. Somehow, she feels like she has to. Somehow she feels like Matt might never take the bull by the horns and do something. Sitting like that with him just now solidified it for her. She can’t wait forever.

And hopefully, he feels the same way.

I've been awake for awhile now  
You've got me feelin' like a child now  
'Cause every time I see your bubbly face  
I get the tingles in a silly place

She looks right at him, and he looks right at her.

He smiles a couple times.

Julia sings her song and says her piece, and when the last chords fade away, she feels like she doesn’t know where to go. Now that it’s out there in the world, she knows Matt knows. She knows Matt knows that was for him.

She never came up with an exit strategy.

She makes a beeline for the bathroom, hoping to get a minute to compose herself. Not that she’s particularly emotional, but she’s not usually so forward with her feelings in front of a roomful of people. She’s certainly never done anything like this before.

She takes a deep breath when she gets into the bathroom, locking the door behind her, even though there are stalls. She needs 30 seconds to herself. She stares in the mirror. Splashes cold water on her face and unlocks the door, not wanting to piss anyone off. Some of those older ladies look like they would smack her around for breathing wrong.

Julia’s back at the sink and the door opens a crack. A tiny “Julia?” squeaks through the door.

“Yeah,” she says over her shoulder.

It’s Matt.

Matt, tall and lanky and smiling, and looking particularly adorable and sheepish about being in the women’s restroom at karaoke sushi.

She doesn’t turn around, and he doesn’t come any closer, so Julia studies him in the mirror. He shoves his hands in his pockets, shuffles from foot to foot. She puts her hair behind her ear, and taps her fingers lightly on the counter. When their eyes meet in the reflection, Matt smiles.

“I did something weird today,” he tells her.

“What?” she whispers.

“I, well, I’ve been thinking about stuff a lot. And I emailed Kerry,” he drops his gaze, and a slight blush comes up his cheeks.

“Oh,” she says.

He looks up, finding her eyes again in the mirror. “I emailed her and told her about how guilty I’ve been feeling for wanting to ask you out.”

“Oh,” she repeats, but this time she smiles and feels her face flush.

“Yeah,” he smiles at her in the mirror. “I talked myself out of it like a thousand times. I kept trying to figure out what to do. And I wasn’t sure if you really liked me, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, because I’m not a creep. I just didn’t know what to do.” He exhales. He’s rambling.

He turns to face her and leans his hip on the counter.

“So,” she says, mirroring him.

“So, can we leave the bathroom?” he asks.

“Yeah, just … one … second,” she trails off as she leans in to kiss him. It’s gentle, and small, but long enough for her to think that she’s happy she’s wearing boots with heels so he’s only a couple inches taller than her.

He barely has time to register what’s happening before she pulls back.

“Sorry, I thought you had something on your lip,” she says with a shrug.

Matt laughs.

She takes his hand and pulls him out the door, where they stumble directly into Kurt and Blaine arguing as they prepare to sing a duet.

“I would really like to be Cher,” Blaine pouts.

“No,” Kurt is adamant.

“I never want anything!” Blaine exclaims.

“You’re right, but I’m more right. I’m the perfect Cher.”

“Look at me brush my hair b-b-b-back, look at my facial expressions,” Blaine argues, gesturing animatedly, doing his very best Cher ala Jack McFarland. .

“Bitch, please,” Kurt says emphatically, shoving a hand not only in front of Blaine’s face, but onto Blaine’s face.

“Alright, fine. You can be Cher,” Blaine mumbles around the hand.

They finally stop arguing long enough to notice they’re in Matt and Julia’s way.

“Hallelujah!” Kurt yells. “Tell Rachel you’re done in there, she’s been bitching about how she has to pee for the past 20 minutes.”

“We were in there for like 90 seconds,” Matt says.

Blaine shrugs. “There’s a lot of d-d-drunken exaggeration going on tonight.”

Kurt and Blaine sing “I Got You Babe,” where, truth be told, they both kind of sound like Cher.

Then Kurt stays on the stage, even though it’s not technically his turn (he gives the woman whose turn it is an angelic smile, and she just melts, gladly giving up her turn to him), to do “Pour Some Sugar On Me.”

Blaine stands very close to the stage, and about a minute into Kurt’s extremely drunk, and very sexy performance, he takes his scarf off and puts it around Blaine’s neck, effectively dragging him onto the stage, too.

Pour some sugar on me, ooh, in the name of love  
Pour some sugar on me, c'mon fire me up

Kurt wails, getting the entire bar involved. He’s high kicking his way across the stage, Blaine doing some kind of nondescript, and vaguely insane, back up dance.

Pour your sugar on me, I can't get enough  
I'm hot, sticky sweet from my head to my feet, yeah

At this line, Blaine takes a moment to grind up on Kurt, making Kurt hit an even higher note. By the time the song is over, they stumble back to the booth landing together and falling back onto the bench. They’re both laughing and sweaty, lips finding each other’s necks.

Kurt pulls his mouth away. “Oh man, you’re totally gonna have a hickey tomorrow,” he slurs.

“S’okay,” Blaine says, eyes bright. He pushes them both into a sitting position.

“I love you,” Kurt says, suddenly serious.

“We should mmm-move in together.” Blaine’s cheek jumps, betraying how earnest he is about this idea. He’s not joking, he’s asking.

“Soon? After you graduate, right?” Kurt asks, searching Blaine’s eyes. That was always the plan, he’s always respected that plan.

“Yeah, but, I can’t b-b-b-believe we have to go home to separate places still,” Blaine explains, confused, and drunk, and weirdly sad all of a sudden. “I want us to, to, to go home together.”

Kurt brushes his cheek. “We can, poop. You can come by me. By me tonight. Or every night.” Kurt is super drunk, he knows his thoughts are coming out all muddled.

Blaine nods. “This summer …” he starts.

Kurt shakes his head, not understanding what Blaine is trying to say.

“This summer we’ll mmm-move in together.”

“Okay,” Kurt says. “This summer.” They kiss as Rachel starts to sing “Love is a Battlefield.”

Blaine pulls his mouth away. “I thought she w-w-w-was saving her voice?”

“She is nothing if not attention seeking,” Kurt says.

Blaine nods, and goes back to kissing Kurt.

“You are like the cutest fella ever,” Kurt says.

“No, you are!”

“No! No! Seriously, you’re so cute, and dumb, and endearing, and I can’t handle it. I just, I want to bite your face.”

“I want to bite your face!”

“I’m gonna bite your face,” Kurt retorts.

“Thanks for the w-w-warning,” Blaine says, as Kurt scrapes his teeth lightly over Blaine’s cheek.

“I hate both of you,” a voice says next to them.

“DiDi?” Blaine asks, confused. “How long have you been sitting here?”

“Well, I can congratulate you on moving in together this summer.”

“So, a long time then,” Kurt remarks.

DiDi nods. “I hate you, and I love you. I couldn’t stop listening because you’re completely gross.”

“We’re really gross, dumdum,” Blaine says, nodding.

“We are, poop,” Kurt agrees.

“I call you poopdum,” DiDi interjects.

The boys both look at her.

“It’s a portmanteau of poophead and dumbass. I learned that word from Blaine,” she explains with a bright smile.

“Doesn’t Blaine know the best words?” Kurt asks, leaning past Blaine, so that he can talk to DiDi.

“He really does. I feel like I know twice as many words since I started hanging out with him.”

“Do you have any favorite words?” Kurt asks.

“Oh, well. I’m sort of partial to portmanteau these days.”

“You know, when Blaine and I first starting getting together, he was so shy, I mean, just like, he could barely IM without being shy. And it was adorable. But he would tell me things, like that he has a top five favorite word list, and then he would get so embarrassed. I swear I could see him blushing over the internet.”

“Blaine never told me you met on the internet! Is there like, a gay version of J-Date?”

Blaine’s eyes go wide at this question.

“Well, it seems like you guys don’t really need me, so I’m just gonna...” He trails off his sentence, as his hoists himself over the back of the booth and slithers down the empty one behind. Kurt and DiDi immediately close the gap and begin chatting again.

Blaine worries briefly that in his drunken state Kurt is going to confess that it was in fact DiDi that sort of brought them together, lo these many moons ago. He decides Kurt knows better than that.

He moseys over to the bar, in his head he refers to it as moseying even, which makes him chuckle. Matt is leaning against it, swigging down the end of his beer.

“Hey, are you and Kurt going to our place?” Matt asks.

“Um, no,” Blaine knows he’s going to have to tell Matt about the plan to move in with Kurt sometime soon, but he decides now might not actually be the time. “We’re gonna go to, to, to Kurt’s.”

“Okay, cool, I think Julia and I are going to our place. Ya know, just to ‘talk,’ or whatever,” he fingers quotes just as Julia joins them.

She makes a face at him. “You can drop those air quotes. I’m not that kind of lady.”

“What if I’m that kind of lady?” Matt volleys.

Julia just shakes her head. She has a feeling she has a lot of head shaking in her future.

After that they collect their coats and head for the door, saying goodbye to everyone as they leave, they wave to Blaine as he leans on the bar sipping a beer. He offers up a mock salute, because sometimes he just can’t help himself.

Blaine’s eyes travel back to Kurt and DiDi in the booth, chatting and laughing. Then to Tina and Rachel fighting over the karaoke catalog, and to Puck who seems to have gotten roped into some kind of very complicated card game with the Japanese businessmen.

Life is good.


	24. Chapter 24

To: Matt, From: Kerry  
Date: Sat, Apr 1, 7:02 pm  
Subject: so... ?

Are you ever going to tell me what happened with Julia or do I have to guess?

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Matt  
Date: Sat, Apr 1, 11:22 pm  
Subject: re: so... ?

I wasn’t sure you wanted to know! I still feel kind of weird that I sent you that email in the first place.

But everything went really well. And I guess we’re dating? Who knows. It doesn’t look that much different than when we were friends.

~~~~~

To: Matt, From: Kerry  
Date: Thurs, Apr 6, 12:47 pm  
Subject: Oh, Matthew.

End of message.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Matt  
Date: Fri, Apr 7, 9:12 pm  
Subject: re: Oh, Matthew.

And now, I’m about to go out with Blaine and tell him that I decided to be a speech pathologist behind his back. I mean, he’s basically the whole reason I want to be a speech pathologist, I never would have thought of it on my own. But the idea of helping kids, and other people, like Blaine … I really like that idea.

I mean, it’s so obvious how much better speech therapy made his life. I want to do that for other people. I sort of applied and got into a program and everything and never even bothered to talk to him about it.

He’s going to think I’m ridiculous.

At least he’s going to his parent’s for the next week, because he’s off from student teaching, so if he thinks this is a dumb idea at least I won’t have to hang out with him.

~~~~~

To: Kerry, From: Matt  
Date: Sat, Apr 8, 1:54 am  
Subject: re: Oh, Matthew.

Spoiler alert: he didn’t think it was a dumb idea. I think he almost cried.

~~~~~

To: Matt, From: Kerry  
Date: Sat, Apr 8, 4:44 pm  
Subject: re: Oh, Matthew.

Of course he almost cried. That’s one of the most fantastic compliments that you could have ever paid him. The idea that you want to help other people like him makes ME want to cry.

And while, yes, obviously speech therapy changed his life, don’t sell yourself short Matt. You made a big difference too.

I think that’s a great professional fit for you. And honestly, I look forward to hearing all about it.

~~~~~

Blaine can’t keep the smile off his face when he heads to the airport Sunday afternoon. Everything is good.

His “life is good” checklist goes something like this:

Kurt = awesome  
Friends = awesome  
Job opportunity that he’s going to tell them about = awesome  
Matt wanting to build his entire career based on Blaine = unimaginable  
Therapy = good  
Parents = good  
Moving in with Kurt = need to talk to parents about it, and kind of nervous, but good.

He spends his flight thinking of how to bring the topic up to his parents. He feels like if he presents it the right way, they’ll have no choice but to be on board with it. He doesn’t want to say that he craves their approval, but truth be told, he does. It’s more than that, though.  
He doesn’t want to regress with them. Everything has been so very good with his dad, with his family in general, that he would hate his life choices to start a fight. He needs a little bit of financial support still, because he’s not quite independent money-wise, but it’s more than the money. He wants them to be happy for him. He wants them to understand what a big deal this is to him.

He loves Kurt, and Kurt loves him. They’re committed to each other to the point where they’re ready to live together. He’s not sure he’ll be able to handle it if his parents don’t get it, or they belittle it, or they get angry about it. But he has to tell them. Because that’s what you do.

He taps his fingers on the arm of his seat and stares out the window into the setting sun.

Whatever.

Blaine’s lacked parental support for a long time, but he’s finally starting to get used to having it. What it comes down to is that Kurt’s important to him. Hopefully they understand.

When he gets back from Ohio, he’s going to have to tell Matt that he’s moving in with Kurt. Which he is loathe to do. If only life were simpler. He’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it. He figures if things go shitty with his parents, when he tells Matt, Matt will be on his side because Blaine’s parents were mean to him, and Matt will forget that he’s sad about Blaine leaving.

Or something like that. Blaine’s thoughts aren’t very organized tonight.

His mom’s waiting for him at baggage claim, like she always is, even though he never checks a bag.

“I swear sometimes I think you get taller,” she tells him by way of greeting as she hugs him tightly.

“I’m pretty sure I-I-I haven’t grown since I w-w-was like 14,” he says as he pulls away.

“I know, it’s in the way you hold yourself these days.”

Blaine smiles and stands up a little straighter.

“Also that you don’t wear Converse anymore,” she adds.

“Maybe I should s-s-start wearing lifts,” he says, standing on his tiptoes.

“You’re awfully silly,” she says.

“I know. You love it,” he says with a wink, and a kiss to her cheek.

“Did you eat? Dad’s outside circling with the car. We thought we could go get dinner.”

“Yeah, sure,” Blaine wipes his hands on his jeans, picking up his carry-on bag, and follows her out into the cool spring air.

His dad has a spot by the curb, and they hop in.

“Hey,” his dad says, craning his neck around.

“Hey, pops,” Blaine greets.

“Want some food?”

“Obviously.”

They go to an Italian place near the airport and are led to a booth, his parents sitting opposite him. They order, and make small talk, and once their meals arrive Blaine decides to talk to them about his plans with Kurt sooner rather than later.

And if they’re pissed or something, they can just drive him directly back to the airport. He could probably even walk from here.

He puts his fork down and takes a deep breath.

“I, um, I really want to, to, to tell you guys ssss-something,” Blaine says.

His parents look at him, both smile.

“I don’t want you to be, be, be mmmm-mad at me or, or, or anything. I, I, I’m a little nervous to tell you,” Blaine pauses. “Which is why my s-s-s-speech is acting up, of course,” he mumbles, almost to himself, and rolls his eyes.

“What’s up, bud?” his mom asks, prompting, prodding him along, still smiling brightly.

His dad is leaning back casually in the booth, looking at Blaine openly.

He clears his throat, takes a second to get his thoughts in order, and takes a deep breath.

“Okay, well. Um. There are a, a, a couple things. For starters, the elementary school that I-I-I student taught at last semester is hiring a new mmmm-music teacher because Karen’s husband is getting transferred, so she’s moving to Delaware. It’s not a d-d-done deal or anything, so I’m applying to other schools, too. And, actually, after-care has a full time ssss-su-supervisory position open, like what my b-b-b-boss Sarah does, and I’m even applying for that. Just to mmm-make sure I have a job.”

“Blaine, honey,” his mom touches his hand. “This is all very good, and very formal, but if you’re worried about money, Dad and I don’t mind helping out. Particularly this summer. We know camp doesn’t pay that much. And I know your grandfather’s going to give you a gift, and of course we’re planning on a graduation gift, that if you want can really just be cash. Not to mention various aunts and uncles. So, don’t worry too much about this.”

“Oh, well, that’s good. And thank you. Buh-buh-ut I’m sort of going s-s-s-somewhere else with all this.”

He flicks a measuring gaze at both of them. They look more concerned now, but it’s time to just say it.

“Kurt and I are, are, are planning on mmm-moving in together.”

No reaction.

“This summer.”

Still no reaction.

“And I-I-I thought you should know.” Blaine dips his head and stares at his barely touched entree, waiting.

“Well, have you started looking for places yet?” his dad asks.

Blaine looks up and stares at him. “Um, no. I guess, I guess, um, I w-w-wanted to tell you guys first.”

“Oh, good. When we come for graduation maybe we can help you boys look,” his mom says, spinning spaghetti onto her fork.

“What about your current apartment? Are you going to have to break the lease or anything?” his dad asks.

“Yeah, it would be good if you didn’t have to break your lease,” his mom agrees, looking at him and smiling.

“You guys,” Blaine interjects, voice a little louder than he meant it to be, but he’s suspicious of these pod people parents. “You guys are okay w-w-with this?”

“Of course,” his dad says.

“I’m a little surprised it hasn’t happened sooner,” his mom agrees.

“You’re not mmm-mad at m-m-me?” he levels this question at his mother, not quite prepared to look at his father yet. He’s always a little more tentative when it comes to his father.

“Why on earth would we be mad at you, bud? This is great. This is good news,” she smiles and squeezes his hand.

Blaine swallows heavily and then looks at his dad. “You’re, you’re ... fine? You don’t mm-mm-mind?”

“Me?” his dad shrugs. “I like Kurt. I’m happy for you guys.”

Blaine puts his face in his hands and smiles into them. He’s so relieved. He’s so happy.

“Blaine?” his mom’s voice is quiet. “Are you okay?”

He pulls his hands away but continues smiling. “I’m r-r-really happy. I’m just … really happy.”

“Good. Now. What’s wrong with your chicken parmigiana? Why aren’t you eating it?” his mom nags gently.

“Nothing’s wrong w-w-with it,” Blaine responds. “It’s good.” He takes large forkful, illustrating how good it is.

His mom looks shifty eyed. “I know you don’t like sharing your chicken, but perhaps I can persuade you to let me try a tiny bite?” she asks.

Blaine laughs.

He can’t help himself.

~~~~~

April 9  
@ 8:02 pm  
Blaine: that went unbelievably well

8:04 pm  
Kurt: YAY!!

8:07 pm  
Blaine: I’ll skype you later and tell you all about it. I’m in the restaurant bathroom texting you because I couldn’t wait another second.

8:09 pm  
Kurt: Love you!

8:10 pm  
Blaine: Love you, too. :)

~~~~~

9:18 pm  
Cooper: hey, are you in Ohio?

9:23 pm  
Blaine: Um, yes. I told you I was coming

9:25 pm  
Cooper: I guess I mean like “are you here yet” and you are!  
Cooper: So want me to make you an appointment for a tux fitting?  
Cooper: and you could come meet me for lunch?

9:28 pm  
Blaine: I actually already made an appointment for a tux fitting.  
Blaine: for tomorrow. But sure, I’ll come meet you for lunch.

9:31 pm  
Cooper: Oh well then. Mr. Big-shot-phone-talking-guy

9:33 pm  
Blaine: that doesn’t even make any sense Cooper

9:36 pm  
Cooper: Mr. I’m-too-good-for-people-to-make-tux-appointments-for-guy

9:38 pm  
Blaine: so I’ll meet you in your office lobby around 1 tomorrow?

9:41 pm  
Cooper: Yeah, sounds good, Mr. meeting-people-for-lunch-guy

~~~~~

April 10  
@ 12:37 pm  
Blaine: I’m super early to meet Coop for lunch.

12:40 pm  
Kurt: How did the tux fitting go?

12:41 pm  
Blaine: perfectly normally boring.

12:43 pm  
Kurt: I have to figure out what I’m going to wear to the wedding.  
Kurt: What’s the tux like?

12:45 pm  
Blaine: pretty average tux  
Blaine: it’s got a nice sheen on the lapels  
Blaine: black tie

12:47 pm  
Kurt: maybe I’ll go with a patterned bow tie.

12:48 pm  
Blaine: CUTE

12:50 pm  
Kurt: right!?!

12:51 pm  
Blaine: So cute.  
Blaine: Coop’s here talk to you later!

12:53 pm  
Kurt: tell him I said hi!

~~~~~

Cooper greets him with a hearty hug.

“Hey, I figured Katinka would, would, would be coming w-w-with us,” Blaine says, patting Cooper on the back.

“She would have loved to, I’m sure, but she got a new job, and works across town, so it’s too hard for her to get over here for lunch.”

“Oh. Probably a, a, a good idea, not w-w-working together once you’re married.”

“Well, yeah. Also, she kind of hated it here,” Cooper confides. “What do you want to do for lunch?”

“Well, I-I-I-I had Italian with Mom and Dad last night. So, anything but Italian?”

“They just opened one of those gourmet burger places across the street,” Cooper offers.

“Works for mm-me,” Blaine says.

They settle into a booth and both decide on cheeseburgers.

“So, I was thinking about something,” Cooper jumps in right after they finish ordering.

“Sup?” Blaine says, smiling and nodding his head.

“Well, Katinka and I were wondering. If. Maybe. You and Kurt would consider singing at our wedding? I know it’s kind of weird. Or maybe not weird. But we just thought. It would be nice for Kurt to be involved somehow. And we would love it if you would sing together.”

“That’s r-r-really nice. Like really nice.”

“Will you consider it?”

“Of course. I-I-I mean, I’m in. Let me mmm-make sure Kurt’s cool with it. But I-I-I, personally, think it’s an awesome idea. Do you have a, a, a s-s-s-song in mind?”

“How about you guys pick one, and run it by us?”

Blaine shrugs. “Sure. We’ll come up with s-s-something.”

“We just figured … Kurt’s obviously important. And probably going to be around for a long time, and we want him to be part of our day.” Cooper doesn’t want to make assumptions, but it seems like his brother and Kurt are in it for the long haul.

Blaine smiles. “The longest time, I-I-I would say even,” Blaine agrees.

“Good, so that’s settled.”

“Yup.”

“So …”

“Um. We’re actually going to be mmmm-moving in together.”

“This is not surprising to me.” Cooper says, chewing thoughtfully. “Did you tell mom and dad?”

“Yes. They were r-r-rih-rih-ridiculously cool about it.”

“Well, that’s good. I think it’s partially because you coming out was pretty much the biggest shock of their lives, and everything else is smooth sailing since then.”

“You know, they r-r-really are extremely accepting.”

“Seriously. For all their faults...” Cooper shrugs.

“Yeah. They’re not so b-b-bad,” Blaine agrees with a smile.

~~~~~

The next night, it’s just Blaine and his mom eating dinner together. His dad has a late meeting, so his mom makes his favorite chicken cutlets. They sit side by side at the coffee table, backs against the couch, legs stretched out underneath, watching Jeopardy.

“So, how’s everything?” she asks.

He side-eyes her. “Why do I-I-I feel like there’s a s-s-specific everything you’re asking about?”

“There’s not. I’d like to hear about anything you’d like to tell me about.”

Blaine makes a dubious face.

“Fine. Don’t tell me anything,” she says nonchalantly. “I’m not anyone of importance.”

“Was that, that, that guilt-tripping? Is that what guilt-tripping looks like?”

“Nah, that was good natured teasing.”

“Oh. Sure. Yeah, I see the d-d-difference.” He rolls his eyes, but then he smiles down at his lap. “Everything is good.”

His mom nods.

“Um. Do you, do you w-w-want to hear about therapy?” He looks over at her, eyes blinking, lips twitching nervously.

“I don’t want to hear about anything you don’t want to tell me about, but as your mother, I feel as though I should at least ask. If you want to tell me about therapy, I would love, honestly love, to hear about it.”

He takes a deep breath. “Well, lately, we’ve been talking about me mm-moving in with Kurt, and what that means, and if I-I-I feel like I’m r-r-ready.”

“Okay,” she says quietly, hoping, praying that he’ll just keep talking. Just keep talking, Blaine. Please keep talking, she thinks during every pause.

“And I do feel r-r-ready. And we talk about um, how I’ve been feeling about, about, about mmm-my past. Like, how much it’s affected me, or whatever. Um, also that mmm-maybe I don’t need to be so shy all the time. Like I-I-I-I worry about making a good impression, but then I don’t talk, so I don’t mmm-make an impression at all. But I’m getting b-b-better at not being as worried, or at least not over-thinking things as mmm-much and maybe, um, maybe like just … being okay.” He pauses, feeling like he just said an awful lot, and then he looks over at his mom, who has a fist to her mouth, covering her smile. “Wait, s-s-strike that. Not being just okay. Better than okay. Good, or great, or, ya know. Whatever.” He shakes his head.

“That’s good, Blaine. That’s all so good,” his mom murmurs.

“Thanks. Oh, and, and we, we, we, we talk about Dad a lot. How I-I-I worry about be-be-be-becoming just like him. How I worry that I’m already too mmm-much like him.” Blaine can’t meet her eye when he says this, worrying that he might offend her, but wanting to voice these insecurities. If he’s going to tell her things, he might as well tell her the truth, the whole truth.

“You worry about that?” she whispers before she can stop herself.

He looks over at her, eyebrows drawn together. “Of course. The more I-I-I-I get to know him, the more I r-r-r-realize how alike we are.”

“I don’t think you could ever be like him. I don’t think you have the potential to ever hate yourself the way he does.”

“Really?”

“Do you hate yourself, Blaine?” she asks.

He thinks about this for a second. Thinks about how weird it is that his mother of all people is asking. He bides his time answering, bites his lip, rolls the idea around in his head.

“No. I don’t. Even, like, like, at my lowest, at rock b-b-bottom, at my mmm-most self-conscious, I’ve never hated myself. I’ve felt worthless, or st-st-stupid, and stuff like that. But I think, I think the worst I ever feel about myself is frustrated, annoyed.” He pauses and looks at his mom, a grin overtaking his face. “On, on, on the other hand, I find myself extremely amusing.”

His mom laughs at that. She studies him seriously. “I have a feeling you won’t become anything you don’t want to.”

Blaine thinks about this for a second. “So, b-b-by your logic, Dad w-w-wanted to, to, to become who he is?”

“Well, no. But we’re talking about you. I don’t think you’ll ever have any trouble being whoever, or whatever, you want to be. You’re much stronger than you’d like to believe.”

Blaine blushes. “Good to know.”

“Glad I could help,” his mom replies. A nostalgic smile spreads across her face. “Do you remember when you were five, and you broke your leg, and we used to eat almost every meal like this?” She gestures towards the spread on the coffee table.

“Yes! It was like mmm-my favorite thing. Gramma would come over all the time, and she’d play games with mmm-me down here, and then complain about her knees when she, when she, when she would try to s-s-stand up.”

“This was the only place you could sit comfortably because the cast was heavy, and you were so tiny.”

“I re-re-remember,” Blaine says, quietly. “Maybe that’s part of mmm-my problem? Maybe I, I, I remember too much?”

His mom knows that they’re back on the previous topic. “I can tell you how I’ve dealt with some of this, but I don’t know if it’ll help you.”

“Okay,” Blaine says.

“I’ve learned that I can love him, even when I don’t like him. That I can trust him with some things, but not others, and that I can forgive him without forgetting. I’m not saying you have to do any of that,” she pauses to look at Blaine. He’s staring at his hands, blinking rapidly. She squeezes his knee. “I’m not saying you have to do any of that, but that’s what I’ve been doing. And it works. It works for me. It might not work for anyone else.”

“I-I-I think,” he pauses, to look at her, a smile lighting his face. “I think I’m doing all of that. I think I’m there.” He leans his head back against the couch, and his smile doesn’t fade. “I think I’m totally there.”

~~~~~

Two days later, Blaine’s driving back from a therapy session with his dad. He’s been thinking a lot about the conversation he had with his mom the other night. He was going to say something about it in therapy, but unlike last year around this time, he feels like he and his dad don’t always need a mediator.

They pull into the garage and walk in through the kitchen. There’s a note on the counter that his mom went out to pick up dinner, and she’ll be back soon.

Blaine’s dad takes a beer out of the fridge, and gestures towards Blaine. “You want one?”

“Um, sure.” Blaine takes the offered bottle and hops up on the counter. He’s so nervous. He doesn’t even remember the last time he was this nervous. He rubs at the back of his neck.

“Um. I-I-I-I want to say s-s-s-something. Buh-buh-buh-ut I-I-I kind of feel like an asshole about it. Like I-I-I-I feel like an asshole s-s-s-saying it, I guess. Maybe, maybe, maybe because I shouldn’t have to s-s-say it, or maybe b-b-b-because I should just show you, or I-I-I don’t know. I’m r-r-ram-rambling. But like, anyway, I, um, w-w-want you to know.”

His dad looks him, worry etching his features. “Sure, anything. I can take it.” He offers a weak grin.

“Oh, well. It’s just, um.” Blaine ducks his head, his face hot. “I just, I know I mmmm-might never understand you, b-b-b-b-but I forgive you.” His hands shake, but he wants to say this, he really wants to say this. “And I know that you, that you love me.”

His voice is very quiet, but it’s okay because the room is silent, only the barest hum from the refrigerator. His dad doesn’t say anything, so Blaine hops off the counter, and sets his unopened beer on the table, figuring he’ll just go up to his room. He can’t even bring himself to look at his dad. This was a terrible idea.

His dad reaches for his shoulder, his hand gentle.

“Hey, wait,” his dad says. “I, I, I don’t know what to say. That’s a, a, a lot to take in.”

“Sorry,” Blaine mutters. But his dad’s hand is still on his shoulder, so he raises his eyes, to find his father’s face wet with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine repeats.

“Why? Why are you sorry?” his dad asks, wiping his face sloppily. “Don’t be sorry.”

Blaine squeezes his eyes shut, and shakes his head. “I-I-I-I have no idea why I’m s-s-sorry. Reflex?”

“Can I tell you something?” his dad asks.

Blaine’s eyebrows furrow. “Of course.”

His dad takes a seat at the table. Blaine grabs his beer and sits down opposite him.

“When I was a kid, and I would stutter, my parents would make me repeat the word until I said it correctly. Which I’m sure you know, is basically the worst way to get a kid who stutters to speak. If I stuttered on something at dinner, they wouldn’t let me eat until I said the word I stuttered on without stuttering. Every time that happened, I would promise myself that if I ever had a kid that stuttered, I would never make him do that. I wouldn’t even talk to him about it. I’d never make him embarrassed about it. I would never even acknowledge his speech. I would just ignore it, and it would be so much better for him.”

Blaine feels weird, and has absolutely no idea what to say to all that. Luckily his father continues, so Blaine doesn’t have to respond yet.

“What I failed to realize is that ignoring it was no way to deal with it either. Because ignoring it was like ignoring you. I felt guilty to begin with, knowing that I had passed it on to you. And then you got older, and I had no idea how to talk to you. And then you got older still, and you weren’t growing out of it. Then you decided to stop talking. And I was so … impressed with you. I would have never thought of that as a kid, I never would have thought to stop talking. I was almost envious of you.”

Blaine scoffs.

“It’s true,” his dad insists. “But it was also around then that I started thinking maybe it was my fault you weren’t growing out of it. That I should have pushed you harder. I mean, I hated my parents, hated them. But I started thinking that as misguided as they were, maybe their brand of punishment helped my speech in the long run.”

Blaine considers this and then clears his throat. “But you never made me r-r-repeat stuff.”

“No, I just became a complete blow hard, who pushed you around and yelled at you a lot. I could never quite bring myself to make you repeat things. But my frustrations got the better of me time and time again. Until really I had no clue what I was doing. And it just kept making you more and more miserable.”

“Yeah, that w-w-was pretty terrible,” Blaine admits, pulling at the label on his beer bottle. “So, why didn’t you ever mmm-mention this before?”

“Well, for a long time I figured you wouldn’t care. And then when I realized you might care, I wasn’t sure if you would really listen.”

Blaine smiles. “Yeah, I probably w-w-wouldn’t have listened.”

His dad shrugs. “I understand. Sometimes people can’t hear things until they’re ready to hear them. Anyway. I guess, um, I guess what I’m getting at is that you don’t ever have to apologize. It’s my turn to apologize. You have done nothing wrong.”

“What if I-I-I run over your foot with a car, or s-s-something?”

“In this hypothetical scenario, I will accept an apology.”

“What if it’s not an accident?” Blaines asks with an eyebrow waggle.

“Are you threatening to run over my foot with a car?”

“Maybe?”

“I’ll just stay far away any time you’re behind the wheel of a car from now on.”

Blaine nods and smiles.

His mom pokes her head through the garage door at that moment. “If you two are done lollygagging perhaps you’d like to come help me unload the groceries.”

“For your information,” Blaine begins as he stands up. “We were having a, a, a very s-s-s-serious discussion.”

“Honey, your son threatened to run over my foot with a car.”

“I don’t think I want to know,” his mom says with a shrug. “Now hurry up, Cooper and Katinka are coming over for dinner!”

~~~~~

April 14th @ 9:46 pm

Hey!

Hi, dumdum. How’s life?

Pretty good now that you’ve called me.

Go fly a kite.

I just don’t think you’ll ever understand how much it means to me when you call.

Buh-buh-lushing font.

I love your dumb face font.

So, um, guess what?

You miss me with the fire of a thousand suns.

Well, yes. Obviously, buh-buh-ut that’s not that point.

If that’s the case, I will never be able to guess.

Yeah, you’ll never be able to, to, to guess. I, um, I told my dad I forgive him. And that, like, um, like I know he loves mmm-me.

You did that? You did that this week?

Yeah, today. Earlier. Yes.

I think I might cry.

[Blaine’s chuckle is a bit wet.] Me too.

That’s amazing, Blaine.

And Coop wants us to sing in his w-w-wedding.

Ha! That’s great. I love that. We’ll have to find a great song.

We will.

[Kurt pauses, knowing Blaine has more to say.]

And, um, my family is, like, communicating. With each other. And I talked to mmm-my mom, and my dad, and my brother. And my mom w-w-wants to help us look for apartments. They want to help financially, they’re like fully s-s-s-supportive of us moving in together. It’s good. It’s perfect.

We should be skyping so you could see how much I’m smiling.

Yes. Let’s do that. I guess I-I-I just wanted to talk to you right away, not mmm-make a plan to meet on skype.

Always follow that instinct.

[Blaine laughs.]

You’re sort of wonderful.

Only sort of?

Go fly a kite.


	25. Chapter 25

A moment of Matt- September, freshmen year

Okay. So I’ve tried asking him to go eat.

I’ve tried walking with him to class.

I’ve tried asking him to go to the movies.

Maybe he thinks I’m hitting on him?

I mean, it’s not like I’ve been touching him inappropriately or something.

I don’t watch him sleep.

Why won’t he be my friend?

I stab at my omelette and glance over at the door, and who’s walking in?

None other than Blaine, my disinterested-in-friendship roommate.

At least he didn’t enter the dining hall with a big group of people.

But why wouldn’t he just come with me when I asked? Or if he wasn’t ready to leave yet, he could have asked me to wait for him or whatever. Is it possible that he would prefer to just eat by himself? Who wants to eat by themselves though? That’s so boring.

And I’m damn funny.

And I’m nice.

And we have fun playing guitar together.

WHY WON’T HE BE MY FRIEND?

That’s it, I’m finishing this omelette, and I’m marching over there, and I’m asking him why he hates me.

How lame would it be to go up to your roommate in the dining hall and yell “why won’t you be my friend!?”

Maybe I need a better plan than that.

But that’s the gist of it.

Watch out Blaine Anderson, you will be my friend!

~~~~~

A Moment of Blaine- September, freshmen year

“Hey,” a voice says next to me. I have my head buried in a text book as I sit in the dining hall.

I look up, and it’s my roommate Matt. I smile at him and then look at the table.

“Can I sit?” he asks.

I’m pretty sure he’s gesturing towards a chair, but I can’t quite look, so I just nod.

“So, I thought you weren’t hungry?” Matt asks.

I shrug.

“Cause, like, I kind of asked you to get breakfast, and you said you weren’t hungry.”

“I, I, I, I f-f-f-fig-figured you were just b-b-b-being nice,” I tell him, honestly.

He gives me a weird look. “I mean, sure, I was being nice. But, like, I didn’t want to eat by myself. And then you showed up 10 minutes later, and ate by yourself.”

I nod.

“But like. Why wouldn’t you come eat with me?”

“You, you d-d-d-don’t have to b-b-b-be nice to mmmmm-me,” I explain. It’s so obvious to me, that he’s just being nice. That he only asks me to eat with him when there’s no one else around. So, I only let myself go with Matt to the dining hall once or twice a week. I don’t want him to get sick of me.

Matt puts a hand to his face, and sighs. “Blaine,” he says. “I’m not ‘just being nice to you,’ I’m trying to be your friend. And you’re making it extremely difficult.”

“Okay,” I whisper, feeling really uncomfortable, kind of wishing he would go away so we don’t have to have this conversation.

“Do you not want to be my friend? Do I offend you or something?”

I swallow hard several times. He doesn’t offend me at all. I want to be his friend more than anything else in the world. But I don’t know how to do that. I don’t actually know how to be anybody’s friend. I’m so afraid that if he gets to know me, he won’t like me. So I try to play it cool and hope that he won’t notice everything that’s wrong with me.

“Blaine?” he prods.

“I-I-I-I-I don’t w-w-w-wanna annoy you.” It falls out of my mouth before I can stop it, my hands clench into fists in my lap, and my eyes drift around the large hall. I’m suddenly very aware that we’re in public having this conversation.

“You don’t annoy me. I thought I was annoying you, or something, and that’s why you weren’t hanging out with me.”

I finally let myself look over at him, I want to say something, but I don’t really have the right words. So I just shake my head. He doesn’t annoy me. He doesn’t annoy me at all.

“Man, that is relieving. For starters, I have a little brother. He’s given me a very high tolerance for annoying behavior. And on top of that little brother, I have five sisters, all of them more annoying than the last,” he says. “And on top of that, I don’t think you’re annoying at all. I mean, I don’t really know you. But you generally give off a very un-annoying vibe.”

I smile inspite of myself at that. But I need one more thing clarified before I can feel better.

“It’s just, it’s just, I-I-I know that I’m n-n-not very good at ta-ta-ta-talking,” I gesture towards my mouth.

“You think your stutter bothers me?” Matt inquires, looking at me, staring at me really, with his mouth hanging open.

I blink hard several times. He’s so blunt about it. He just says it, like it’s no big deal, like it’s not this thing that hangs over me constantly.

“It bb-bb-bb-bothers lots of puh, puh, p-p-people,” I tell him.

“You really think that’s a legitimate reason for not being your friend though? Because you stutter? That’s a pretty assclown reason for not being someone’s friend. And I am not an assclown.”

“Assclown,” I repeat, quietly, smiling at the table.

“I promise I’m not an assclown,” he says. It’s so sincere. It’s so weird, I don’t really know how to respond to a sentiment so absurd, and yet congenial.

I nod and smile, and promise myself that I’ll try not to be so shy around Matt.

And really hope I don’t fuck it up.

~~~~~

A moment of Rachel- September, sophomore year

I’ve known Kurt for a long time. Long enough to know that there’s something about this boy that makes him not just happy, but comfortable. More himself that I’ve ever seen him around a guy that he’s attracted to. Certainly better than the last dipshit he dated.

When Kurt was in the bathroom, I told Blaine all of the very best stories about Kurt in high school. He smiled and nodded, but didn’t really say anything to me. Perhaps I intimidate him. I know Kurt said he was very shy, but I also know that I have a fairly large personality. It’s the performer in me.

Kurt was worried that Blaine didn’t really want to come, I think. He was worried that he was peer pressuring Blaine into this party. But looking at them, I think Blaine really, really wanted to come, but he just didn’t know how to express that to Kurt.

Truth be told, it went against my instincts as best friend to encourage Kurt to continue pursuing Blaine after he dropped off the face of the earth at the end of the summer, but I couldn’t stop thinking about all those IM conversations that Kurt would show me. And all the emails. And the way Kurt’s eyes danced when he talked about Blaine. He certainly made it up to Kurt tenfold since then, with the song, and the note, and the general being adorable and bashful.

And now, at this party, I can’t stop watching them. He’s not saying much to Kurt, but it’s like he reacts to everything Kurt says. Even if he’s not talking, he’s trying to say something. With his face, or his hands, or the timid way he just touched Kurt’s knee.

How was that knee touch one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen?

Where’s Puckerman? I need to make out immediately.

~~~~~

A moment of DiDi- January, sophomore year

I get to class about five minutes early, and glance around, not recognizing anyone, though that’s not all that rare for me. I’m just terrible with faces. And names. And words. And using the dictionary properly. (That is just a short list of my flaws.)

Just before class starts a boy stumbles into the room with hair almost as crazy as mine. Not to mention the beginnings of a sad looking beard. I like him immediately. I want to be his best friend (or possibly make out with him). He probably already has a best friend, but I have a feeling I can win him over (and possibly make out with him).

There just happens to be a seat open next to me, and he drops into it, sliding his bag under the chair. He catches me staring at him, so I smile and wave. He lowers his eyes, but waves back.

Oh, we are going to be so in love.

We are going to get married. And have at least three kids. We’ll move to San Diego because that way my mom can watch the kids while we’re at work. I mean, I don’t know where he’s from, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind moving to southern California. Look at his hair, it screams “laidback.”

Our wedding will be on the beach, for sure. Hopefully that won’t take too much convincing. I mean, the idea of toes in the sand when we start our lives together. It’s just such an awesome idea. We’ll do it at sunset, so I don’t freckle. On the other hand, I suppose if we’re going to live where I want to live, we could get married wherever he wants to. As long as it’s not stupid.

For the second time in five minutes, he catches me staring at him. He blushes and ducks his head.

We are so on.

He’s adorable, bashful, intelligent, kind-hearted, good with kids and deaf people. (We’re in sign language class, I am assuming certain things.) He obviously doesn’t think I’m that crazy, which is already a big step in the right direction. A big, big step. There are several other available seats and he hasn’t run away even though I’ve been openly gazing at him for the past 7 and a half minutes.

I concede to the fact that I won’t be learning anything during this class and instead continue eyeballing my future husband.

He does seem uncomfortable with my scrutiny.

I look away and decide I can only look at him for ten seconds every five minutes.

He leaves class quickly when it’s over, and I decide against stalking. But I do promise myself that I will find out my future husband’s name during our next encounter.

Next class I smile and wave, and he smiles and waves back.

Third class, same.

Fourth class, ditto.

Fifth class, lather, rinse, repeat.

The sixth class, things get good.

We’re paired together for an in-class project.

Jackpot.

We spend the class giggling quietly, trying to do our assignment. We don’t talk during class, we’re not really supposed to. Up close he looks really familiar and a minute later I realize that I’ve seen him around. With a guy. With a boyfriend type guy.

My marriage dreams are dashed.

But perhaps we can still be best friends. (That make out every once in awhile, if he’s into it? Maybe he’s bi!)

As we’re walking out afterward, I decide to just jump on the opportunity. We should at least be friends. He’s too cute not to be friends with.

“So, what’s your name?” I ask, feeling awfully bubbly. Which is good, I like bubbly, it works for me. I’m short, people like when short people are bubbly.

My future best friend opens his mouth, and then blushes deeply. We stop in the hallway outside of the classroom, and move to the side.

He looks at me and smiles a very nervous smile.

“I, um, I, um.” He pauses, sucking in a deep breath. He tightens his grip on his bag strap. I can see him swallow. Does he not want to tell me his name? Like I’m some kind of stalker? Some kind of maniac that’s going to fall in love with him for three weeks, plan our wedding, where we’ll live, and our children’s names. (Xander, Simon, or Doyle, for boys. Willow, Zoe, or Cordelia, for girls. I assume he’s a Whedonite. I mean, why else would I be in love with him?) I would never actually stalk him though! Not really at least.

My thoughts are interrupted by his throat clearing, followed by a weird jerk of his head.

“I-I-I-I have a s-s-st-st-st-stutter, s-s-sometimes I-I-I-I have trouble sssss-saying m-m-my name.”

I smile. He has a stutter. He doesn’t think I’m stalking him.

“Oh!” I exclaim, and he jumps a bit. “My name is kind of like a stutter!”

He looks like he’s fighting laughter, but then he draws his eyebrows together.

“My name’s DiDi!”

He nods, looking at his feet.

“Bah-bah-bah-bah, Bah-laine, Blaine.”

“Blaine,” I say. “That’s a nice name.”

He side eyes me. “I’ll let mmm-my mom know that you think s-s-s-so.”

We are so going to be best friends.

~~~~~

A moment of Blaine’s dad- May, Graduation day

I’ve been to all of his graduations, at least I can say that much. I was there for middle school, and high school, and even the little ceremony they had in pre-school, and the “moving up” ceremony they had from elementary school.

But this, his college graduation, this is different.

And maybe it’s because I see him differently now, maybe it’s because I actually look at him these days, but this is making me awfully emotional.

He’s so happy. There’s a bounce in his step I never noticed. He holds his head up, and he walks with purpose to receive his diploma. He even shoots a glance into the audience, something I don’t think he would have had the courage to do a few years ago. He was always so guarded.

We go out for lunch afterwards, Blaine chatting amiably the whole time, he and Kurt taking turns, telling us about the apartments they’ve seen, Cooper and Katinka adding their opinions here and there.

Blaine is a much different person now. The farthest thing from the boy who left for college. The complete opposite in some ways.

Though I do see all the issues that I know from experience. Ordering food is always an obstacle. It’s a small obstacle, but I always have a moment where I wonder if the request is going to come out properly. I see Blaine read the menu, and choose, and when it comes time to order he inhales deeply, licking his lips. He blinks a few times and juts out his chin, but the words flow perfectly. Anyone who didn’t know about his impediment would never see the brief struggle.

The thing is, it’s not really that big of a deal to the naked eye.

But it is.

To him.

He orders his steak without any problems, and smiles widely (at me) when he’s done. It’s a triumph. That’s what people who don’t stutter don’t understand. You can be bolstered,and conversely, destroyed, by the tiniest thing. Blaine will file this away for the next time he has to order, and it will accumulate. At this point in Blaine’s life, every day is full of tiny … victories. Small victories. Minute to the outside world. But important enough to make his day in the long run.

His smile says it all.

When we’re done ordering, the conversation moves on. But I can’t stop watching the miracle it is that my son can … talk.

~~~~~

A Moment of Blaine’s mom- May, post-graduation

My feet are killing me, and I can’t quite bring myself to go on an adventure to find pastries, no matter how excited Cooper and Katinka are about them. Instead I bow out, saying that I’m going up to the hotel room for a bit, but I certainly wouldn’t turn my nose up at a pastry if they wanted to surprise me.

Greg grins. “Do you mind if I go with the kids?”

“Of course not.”

“I could come up and keep you company,” he offers.

“No, you go ahead. I’m gonna channel surf and give my feet a break before we wander around in search of dinner later.”

Soon after I enter the room, Blaine calls, and I tell him everyone else went for a walk, but he should come upstairs.

I open the door for him when he knocks.

“How’d the interview go?” I ask, as he plops down in the armchair in the corner, and I sit down on the bed.

“Not b-b-bad. I’m not sure it’s necessarily what I-I-I want to do, coordinate aftercare. There’s … a, a, a lot of angry parents involved. That’s not exactly mm-my cup of tea. But I like the option.” He shrugs.

“But how did it go?” When he was talking about it last night he was nervous. He was trying to sound confident about it, but I can always see the edges. The blinking, the way his hands flutter, his fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. His speech doesn’t always betray him anymore, but his actions are still a dead giveaway of his emotions.

“Oh. Um,” his face cracks into a broad grin. “Really w-w-w-well. I-I-I was feeling pretty good about it. Sarah was there. I knew what I was talking about. I didn’t, um … My, my s-s-speech was pretty good. It behaved.”

“Good. Nothing wrong with going on an interview. Even if it’s for a job that might not be the right fit. It’s really great practice.”

Blaine bobs his head.

“I-I-I stopped at my apartment on my way here and there was a graduation card in the mail from Burt and Carole.”

“They’re very nice people.”

“They are. It had a hundred bucks in there.”

“Be sure to thank them.”

“Should I send a card, or …”

“You could just call them, that might be nice.”

He nods.

“You have no idea how lucky you are.”

He looks at me questioningly.

“Your father’s parents were very difficult people.”

“Oh,” he says.

“The first time I met them, we’d been dating for about a month, maybe a little more. They invited me over for dinner, which was this really formal affair. And I was definitely not prepared for it.”

“Didn’t Dad tell you what it w-w-w-would be like?”

“Well, he did to a point. I was dressed properly, I didn’t make a fool out of myself not knowing which was the salad fork or anything. But they were really harsh people.”

“Like, how harsh?” He inches the armchair closer to the bed, so he can prop his feet up.

I take a deep breath. For the first time in my life I wonder how much I should divulge on behalf of Greg. I haven’t felt protective of him in a very long time.

“Well, what do you know about their relationship? Your dad and his parents?”

“Dad told me that they used to, to, to mmm-make him repeat things until he said it the word without s-s-st-stuttering, stuff like that.”

I nod. “So, consider this. I met your father when he was 25. He took me to his parents house for dinner, and was always the utmost gentleman on dates. As soon as we entered his parent’s house and his demeanor changed. He was … cold. Standoffish. We sat down for dinner, and his mother asked him a question. A fairly inoffensive question about work. He stuttered, just barely, on one word.”

“He told me that it would always s-s-sneak up on him at the, the, the worst times.”

“This shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But his father laughed at him, and told him that he better not be using any of that talk around clients. And his mother said something about how he knows that they hate when he talks like that.”

Blaine narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t even make any s-s-sense. Like he had control over it? Or like he d-d-did it to spite them? That’s … “ Blaine shakes his head.

“It’s cruel.”

Blaine doesn’t respond, but I can see the gears in his head turning.

“Anyway. I didn’t know anything about stuttering at that point, but knowing what I know now it was a pretty simple block, he worked through it. I would have never noticed it if they hadn’t called attention to it.”

“What … I, I, I mm-mean,” Blaine sucks in a breath. “Did you, did you say anything?”

“I pretended to be invisible while it was happening. And later on I asked him about it.”

“What did he s-s-say?”

“Well, he told me that as a kid he had a stutter, and how his parents were upset by it. That they don’t like it when he stutters. He told me that’s why he talked so slowly, and why he was shy.”

“What did you do?” He looks at me, and his face is so full of concern. It’s a perfect of example of why Blaine will never turn into his father.

“That night I took him back to my parent’s house where we ate ice cream with my nephews and nieces, because it was Friday night and my parents were in a constant state of babysitting for my sister’s kids. Grandma hugged him, even though it was the first time she met him.”

Blaine giggles. “I b-b-b-bet Dad just loved that.”

“You know. I think he did.”

We’re quiet for a few minutes.

“So, that’s why you s-s-stayed with him all this time?” Blaine asks. “Because of who he w-w-was then?”

“That’s part of it,” I admit. “Another part of it was sheer stubbornness.”

Blaine smiles.

At that moment the elevator dings and we hear voices in the hallway, alerting us to the return of the rest of the family.

Blaine leans back in the chair and smiles when the door opens.

“Hey, B!” Cooper says, entering first.

“Blaine!,” Katinka exclaims, as she squeezes Blaine’s shoulder.

Greg walks in last, holding a pastry box. He sets it on the table, and greets both of us. I watch as Blaine stands up to take a peek at the various desserts.

“How did it go this morning?” Greg asks, patting Blaine on the back, eyes interested.

“Pretty good.” Blaine gives his father a one armed hug, and then makes a silly face. “So, what did you b-b-bring me?”

They smile the same smile at each other, and I can’t get over how alike they can be, even though they’re such very different people.

~~~~~

A moment of Julia- May, post-graduation

Blaine drops into the chair across from me and smiles.

“Have you s-s-seen Kurt? Or Matt?”

I shrug. I know what they’re up to, but Blaine doesn’t yet.

“What do you know?” he asks suspiciously.

“Me? Nothing,” I say, all wide eyed innocence.

“Kurt texted me to mm-meet him here, and he’s never actually d-d-d-done that before, texted me for open mic night. And I can’t shake the, the, the feeling that the two of them have b-b-been up to something r-r-recently,” Blaine explains.

“Who knows?” I say. This might actually be the longest conversation I’ve ever had one on one with Blaine, and I’m trying not to show how excited I am that he’s talking to me like this. Be cool, Julia.

“You know. I-I-I know you know,” he states this as fact, squinting at me.

“Well, you’ll find out soon, won’t you?”

“Why am I-I-I so nervous?” Blaine says, almost to himself. “I knew I should have never b-b-b-become friends with Matt. That was a terrible idea. None of this would have happened if I-I-I wasn’t his friend. Becoming friends with Matt was the w-w-w-worst idea ever.”

I tip my head earnestly. “You’re such a liar.”

“I’m such a liar,” he agrees with a smile. “To be fair though, he totally w-w-w-wooed me into friendship. He was like a friendship s-s-sorcerer.”

“That’s not the story I heard.”

“Oh, really?”

“I heard that he cornered you in the dining hall one day and yelled at you to be his friend.”

Blaine considers this for a moment. “That is s-s-s-sort of what happened.”

While we were talking, Kurt and Matt had been hidden in a corner of the coffee house, only walking on stage now for open mic night.

I touch Blaine’s arm and point behind him.

“Happy almost birthday,” I say with a grin.

“I knew there was a reason I was nervous,” he whispers, rubbing the back of his neck.

~~~~~

A moment of Kurt- May, post graduation

I have sung in front of national show choir competition audiences. I have sung in front of Josh Groban, Olivia Newton-John, and Lindsay Lohan. And yet somehow open mic night might just be the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done. I know a big part of it is because I’m doing this for Blaine, and I want it to be perfect.

The other part of it is that I’ve never been alone on stage in such a small venue, minus drunk karaoke, but you can’t count that. Everyone can see you here. You can make eye contact with every single person in the room. I have no idea how someone as shy as Blaine could ever get up here.

And then I remember that he’s also extraordinarily brave.

“So,” I say into the microphone. “I’m Kurt. Usually I’m the one getting sung to. But Blaine’s birthday is this weekend, and I’d really like to tell him how much he means to me. I had Matt give me a hand rearranging the song. And I really hope you like it, because you’re my favorite fella.”

His face is beet red, as I’m sure mine is, too. But we smile at each other, and then he winks, which makes me want to cry.

Instead I start to sing.

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older  
Then we wouldn't have to wait so long

And my thoughts drift.

Blaine’s face the first time I ever saw him, sitting behind his guitar, pretending to tune it rather than make eye contact with anyone.

His red hat, the salute in the street.

Singing Pale Blue Eyes, never even thinking that I might try to talk to him.

His confession on IM about how shy he is.

The first time he texted me.

Asking my advice about how to come out to his parents.

In the piano room. I close my eyes at the thought of Blaine in the piano room. His face that day is etched so clearly in my mind. I’m surprised he didn’t run away when I cornered him in there. He was terrified, and yet trying so hard.

Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up  
In the morning when the day is new

Singing First Day of My Life on this very stage.

Holding my hand after the diner, even though I could feel it shaking.

The day in the street when he scraped his knees. He was fighting everything so hard. He was fighting against me, but he was mostly fighting himself. So nervous to let anyone in.

He got better after that. But it was still work.

His rambling confession that he was going to speech therapy so that he could talk to me in real life and not just on the internet.

His smile the day I invited him to the party Rachel and I were having.

His obvious nerves when he walked into that party.

His arm inching closer to mine as we stood side by side.

The way his hand drifted to my knee as we sat on the stools.

His quiet voice that was filled with so much hope.

The look on his face when he brought me a coffee of apology the next day.

His blue shirt, the swinging red car, and the setting sun at the top of the ferris wheel. The way his body language changed when I let myself sink into his arms. Suddenly, he wasn’t nervous, frightened Blaine. He was someone I could count on. He was someone looking out for me, making me feel protected. And adored.

His face after he kissed me, like he just found the meaning of life.

And after having spent the day together  
Hold each other close the whole night through

The day he asked me to be his boyfriend. The look on his face when I told him we should use some other word instead of boyfriend.

On the couch in my apartment after brunch, when Blaine finally decided that I actually liked him. And discovered his passion for blow jobs. And that you shouldn’t use berry scented hand lotion if you’re planning on giving one.

His expression when I told him I was in love with him.

When he let me trim his hair for the first time, even though he hates haircuts.

The two of us in my bed, several nights later.

The flashdrive.

His face in Rachel’s basement our first New Year’s Eve together.

Happy times together we've been spending  
I wish that every kiss was never-ending

Saying goodbye in my bedroom when I left for Paris.

The ache that settled into my body within hours of arriving there. All because I missed him with every fiber of my being.

The signs he made the first time we skyped.

The sound of his voice the first time we really spoke on the phone.

The smile on his face at JFK baggage claim.

The immediate relief from reading the phrase, “Poophead missed you.”

His breath on my neck when we hugged.

His face in the cab when I told him how good he sounded.

And that all happened in span of a year. It’s impossible to go through every last detail. To think of everything that’s happened during the span our relationship.

To think of everything that will happen over the years to come.

He is my poophead, my fella, my Blaine.

We could be married  
And then we'd be happy

But there are certain things I know.

I know when he’s about to stutter he blinks three times and tightens his lips.

I know he covers his face with his hands when he’s truly happy.

I know he rubs his neck when he’s nervous.

I know which expression means please, which means thank you, which means “I’m laughing at you on the inside, because I think you’re awfully cute when you ramble.”

I know he doesn’t mind crying, but he saves it for important things.

I know he tries so hard.

I know that for everything I know about him, he knows just as much about me.

I know I worked hard to earn his trust, and I never want to lose it.

And I know he loves me with all his heart.

You know it seems the more we talk about it  
It only makes it worse to live without it  
But lets talk about it  
Wouldn't it be nice


	26. Chapter 26

June 1  
@ 9:01 pm  
Blaine: Hey, are you around at some point in the near future to discuss my best man speech with me?

9:04 pm  
Chad: I’m fighting the urge to tease you.  
Chad: But I’m fighting it, because I know the only reason I would tease you  
Chad: Is because I’m so ridiculously impressed that you’re going to give a best man speech.

9:06 pm  
Blaine: I’m so nervous.  
Blaine: SO. NERVOUS.

9:08 pm  
Chad: I know. That’s why I’m not actually saying anything snarky.  
Chad: You play golf right?

9:11 pm  
Blaine: Um. Yes. As an Anderson man I play golf in the summer and ice fish in the winter.  
Blane: Are you going to make some analogy about golf and best man speeches?

9:13 pm  
Chad: No, I’m going to ask you to go the driving range with me this weekend and we can discuss your speech while you criticize my swing.  
Chad: Melinda’s parents are big golfers. We’re going to visit them in North Carolina in a couple weeks and I figure maybe if I’m a decent enough golfer they won’t notice that I’m terrible at making conversation.

9:16 pm  
Blaine: Haven’t you already met them? Hasn’t the first impression ship sailed long ago?

9:17 pm  
Chad: Yeah. But we’re spending the *weekend* with them. Not just dinner or whatever.

9:18 pm  
Blaine: OH! Wow. Yeah. That’s a lot of conversation.  
Blaine: Yes. Let’s go to the driving range.

~~~~~

“You need to, to, to give it more push,” Chad says knowledgeably, watching Blaine’s golf ball sail into the air.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Blaine tells him.

“I have no idea what I’m talking about,” Chad puts his hands up in surrender.

They work silently for a minute.

“So have you ever been a b-b-b-best man?” Blaine asks.

“Yes. For both my brothers a-a-actually.”

“Really? How did that happen?” Blaine’s intrigued.

“Well, they’re super compe-pe-pe-pe-titive with each other. And one of them married the other one’s ex-girlfriend.”

Blaine makes a face. “Eep.”

“Eep, indeed. They get along now. But I was neutral territory for a, a, a, a long time. And really, Reece is basically my best friend on earth. He’s only a y-y-year older than me, and was my long time protector. So it made sense for me to be his best man.”

Blaine smiles, and then remembers something. “One time you told mmm-me you had a Matt though. What happened to, to, to him?”

“Actually it was a her. And remember I said that one of my relapses was over eeeee-motional turmoil?”

Blaine nods.

“Well, she, Gemma, was my best friend for years, like from when we were kids. We lived in the same neighborhood. Then my senior year of h-h-h-high school, my dad got transferred, so I had to move. Before I left, I basically told her I was in love with her, and she said she didn’t feel the same way, or, or, or whatever. She was nice about it, but … that was the gist.”

“Oh, man. Terrible.”

“It was. But at least I was leaving, and I told her the tr-tr-tr-truth, ya know? It was the first time in my life I really stuck my neck out. That I found the courage to say what I was thinking, the first time I didn’t let my s-s-s-s-speech rule my life. So, I mean, it sucks that she rejected me, but at least I did something about it.”

“How d-d-did that lead to emotional turmoil a couple years ago though?”

“Well, she and I reconnected in college, online mostly. We talked a lot. I went to school here, and she went to school in Boston, and we didn’t ever see each other. But then after college she moved to New York and we h-h-h-hung out all the time. She was there to hold my hand when my dad died, and I was there for her when she got laid off. But we never really dated.”

Blaine raises an eyebrow.

“I know it sounds like she was stringing me along, but it wasn’t like that. She actually kissed me once, and I was the one who re-j-j-j-jected her that time.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know? I think because I could, because … I wasn’t th-th-that into her anymore. And I got it in my head that she pitied me. I’m not saying I’m the smartest guy on earth.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Well, yeah. That’s become abundantly clear over the years. Anyway, she started dating a-a-a-another guy. Who I hated, really just a, just a douche. And within six months, they got married.”

“Emotional turmoil?”

“Serious emotional turmoil. I was so pissed at myself. That I let this, uh, uh, uh, opp, opportunity pass me by.”

“Did you say anything?”

“I couldn’t. For a bunch of reasons. For starters, they e-e-e-eloped. It was like they went from casually dating to married really fast. I couldn’t really say something to a married woman, even if she was my best friend. And quite frankly, the whole thing was j-j-just so terrible, I wanted to get over it. I even went on a blind date in an attempt to forget about her.”

“A b-b-b-blind date actually sounds like my worse nightmare.”

“It’s even worse than it sounds. But anyway.”

“Sucks, Chad. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he hits the ball long and hard.

“That had nice pull,” Blaine says, watching it fly.

“That wasn’t pull, I hooked it.”

“Just pivot d-d-differently.”

“Thanks for changing the subject.”

“Not a problem. I’m the mmmmm-master of abrupt subject change. Not to mention that I’m the asshole that b-b-b-brah-brought it up in the first place.”

Chad grins at him. “So, asshole. Didn’t you have a topic that needed discussing?”

“Oh, yeah. Oh god, I-I-I-I get such crazy anxiety even thinking about this.” Blaine clutches his heart dramatically.

“You can do this. Use this very simple formula that I’ve created.”

Blaine raises his eyebrows.

“Open with an ah-ah-ah-an-anecdote about your shared childhood. Say that you’re more than just brothers. Welcome the bride to the family.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“Tell me the childhood anecdote.”

“We used to eat a lot of, of, of ice cream and watch B-b-b-back to Future together all the time?”

“Perfect. What else?”

“Um. He wrote me a letter when I-I-I-I started college, and it,” he blushes and glances over at Chad, who’s watching him intently. “It kind of changed mmm-my life.”

“Really?”

Blaine nods.

“That’s awesome. Use that. It’s good.”

“Okay. Got it.”

“You’re happy for him, happy for them, happy the family is e-e-expanding. Welcome, Katinka. Done.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah. I mean, it doesn’t have to be long. And Blaine, if you’re really this un-un-uncomfortable, this panicky about it, just tell Cooper you’re too nervous. There’s nothing written in stone that the best man has to make a speech.”

“Oh. Well. He told me I, I, I didn’t have to. He d-d-doesn’t know that I’m planning this.”

Chad had been lining up a shot, thinking about hooking, and pulling, and pushing, and driving, but now Blaine has his full attention.

Blaine’s eyes are on his shoes. “I w-w-want to s-s-s-surprise him,” he mumbles.

“Oh. Wow. That’s like. Really impressive.”

“Thanks.”

“Okay. When we’re done here, we’ll go get some coffee and start j-j-j-jotting stuff down. Do you want to memorize what you’re going to say?”

“Preferably. I hate holding papers when I-I-I-I talk, they just highlight how much mmmm-my hands are shaking.”

“I hear ya.” The take some more swings.

“So what else is going on?” Chad asks, breaking the silence.

“Um. Kurt and I-I-I found an apartment. We move in July 1st.”

“That’s awesome! In the same neighborhood?”

“Yeah. And Matt’s sister, Erin, is mmmm-moving in with him in our place, and Puck’s moving in with Rachel, so neither of us had to b-b-b-break our lease.”

“That’s good.”

“I’m working at camp this summer. Um. I’m still interviewing for jobs. Including one at a, at a, at a mmmm-middle school. I think, I mean, I-I-I-I know … I’ll have a job in the fall. I just don’t know where.”

Blaine chews his lip.

“What?”

“Did I-I-I tell you started s-s-s-seeing a therapist?”

“No, you didn’t tell me that.” Chad has 800 questions, but doesn’t want to pry, so he settles on something generic. “How’s that going?”

“Good. I … I really never want to be-be-become my dad.”

Chad nods. Blaine and his dad are a very complicated topic.

“And I’m pretty sure talking is the b-b-b-best way to avoid that,” Blaine explains.

“You’re probably right.”

“Yeah,” Blaine’s eyes unfocus, and he blinks. “Everything’s really good with mmm-my dad.”

“Good,” Chad smiles. He means it.

“Yeah, so that’s about it, for, for, for mmm-me.” Blaine’s eyes refocus, and he smiles broadly. “What about you?”

“Melinda, fear of her parents,” Chad says, shrugging. “I, um, I. I heard that Gemma’s getting divorced, actually.”

“Wow. That’s … pretty b-b-bad timing. You guys have terrible timing.”

“I know! I’ve been single basically my entire life, and now I’m with Melinda for almost a year. And suddenly Gemma is g-g-g-getting divorced.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“Um. No. I haven’t talked to her at all actually, in the past two years.” Chad rubs his neck.

“Well. Um. I-I-I have no advice of any kind for this ssss-situation.”

“I know,” Chad squeezes his eyes shut. “Not sure what my recourse here is. I should probably just …”

“Just what?” Blaine prods.

“I have no idea how to end that sentence,” Chad admits.

~~~~~

Time flies after that afternoon with Chad, and the day of the wedding is upon them quickly.

Blaine and Kurt spend a lot of time preparing the song they chose for Cooper and Katinka. Blaine spends a lot of time on the phone with his mom, who volunteered to help Katinka plan the wedding, but seems to need a sounding board after almost every part of the plans. Apparently his father is useless for this kind of talk.

Though Blaine isn’t really much better.

“Buh-buh-buh-ut what’s wrong liking yellow carnations?” he asks one night on the phone. Kurt looks up at him and makes a face, while shaking his head. Apparently Kurt knows what’s wrong with liking yellow carnations.

“Oh. Blaine honey. They’re just … yellow carnations. Why not yellow roses? Or maybe zinnias, or … “ Then shes’s off again, and Blaine regrets even asking.

As the hour draws nearer for his speech, Blaine is nervous. He jiggles his knee through the ceremony, bites his nails in the limo ride, cracks his knuckles during the pictures. He has his mom tell the band that Blaine’s going to be making a speech, so that he leaves a moment for it. But she’s the only one who knows about it, aside from Kurt. He even asked her specifically not to tell his dad. He doesn’t need the added pressure of preconceived notions. He hates that he even had to tell his mom, but he wasn’t sure if he would make it into the ballroom at any point before the bridal party makes their entrance.

He knows exactly what he’s going to say. He has it memorized, right down to the tone. He’s been practicing in the mirror since that day with Chad. But no matter how many times he gets up in front of a group to speak he always feels the same.

Panic stricken.

And somehow this feels more important than anything else. He’s going to stand up, and speak to half a roomful of people who have known him his whole life. They’ve known him as shy Blaine, stuttering Blaine, Blaine who can never get the words right , so he rarely talks. His mom and dad, his aunts and uncles and cousins, they don’t know the Blaine who can get up in front of a classroom of his peers, or a classroom of his students, and talk. Even if he still does stutter every once and awhile.

The other half of the room doesn’t speak much English, but he’d still prefer it if he didn’t make a complete ass of himself in front of them.

After the first dance, Blaine makes his way to the stage.

He takes the microphone and feels so anxious, he lets a quick jerk run through his neck, it’ll release some of his built up tension if nothing else. He looks across the room directly at Cooper, who’s leaned towards him, an expression of something like wonder etching his features. He quirks a grin at Blaine and gives him a thumbs up.

Blaine looks at the ground, takes a deep breath, and then looks back up, clearing his throat.

“Hi,” he waves awkwardly, but he keeps a smile on his face. “I’m, uh, I’m Cooper’s bah-rother, um, Blay, Blaine.”

He’s doing this for Cooper, awkwardness be damned. He and Chad had decided that Blaine should be upfront with his speech. And that he should do a lot of simple voluntary stuttering at the beginning.

“Um, so. Okay. I, um, I, I have a s-s-s-stutter so please b-b-bear with me. I'll try to, to, to mmm-make this short and sweet.” Blaine grins, feeling heat in his face, but knowing he can do this. Though he wishes he could have had a few more drinks beforehand. However, that might have resulted in him making inappropriate penis jokes in front of a 150 people. So that might not have been the best idea either. He shakes his head, in hopes to clear this ridiculous thought process, and continues.

“Cooper is a, a, a good b-big b-b-brother. Once upon a time, I-I-I-I had a tendency to be a pretty b-b-big pain in the, in the, in the b-b-butt, and he was fairly patient at least … 60% of the time.” This gets a chuckle from the crowd, which serves to egg him on. “Buh-buh-buh-ut let's be honest, it was s-s-sort of my d-d-duty as a little b-b-brother to be a pain in the b-b-butt.” He’s falling into his groove now. He lets his hands talk with him, he moves a little bit, he looks around at the crowd. He finds his dad with a smile on his face, his mom with a hand to her mouth.

“There's 10 years b-b-between us, so we didn't always have a, a, a, a lot in common. Most of our quality time was sp-sp-spent watching the Back to the Future trilogy while he b-b-babysat me. And if I was good, ssss-sometimes he'd let me get ice cream from the ice cream man. I was usually very good, be-be-be-because I was fairly addicted to chipwiches at a very young age.”

This gets another chuckle from the crowd. He feels like he’s playing them just right now. He feels like he could talk for an hour, even though he promised them short and sweet.

“All in all though, the older I-I-I got the less I really expected from him. Once he left for college, and as I got too old for a b-b-babysitter, we really didn't sssss-pend much time together. Until I left for college, and he wrote mmmm-me a letter that changed our relationship. And truth be told, kind of changed my life.” He smiles over at Cooper, who’s smiling back at him. Blaine wonders briefly if Cooper knew before this moment how much that letter meant to Blaine. Probably not. Blaine regrets not mentioning it sooner.

“Cooper has a b-b-b-big heart, and so does Katinka. I'm glad they found each other, to share all the love that r-r-resides within them.” It’s a little cheesy, but it’s a nice sentiment he thinks. This time his eyes fall on Kurt, who’s beaming at him. Blaine beams back, before turning his attention to Katinka.

“Welcome to the family, Katinka!” he exclaims. “We're not always perfect, but w-w-we really do love each other.” She smiles and claps her hands in delight.

Blaine raises his champagne flute. “To the happy couple!” he says.

And everyone toasts. Before taking a long gulp, Blaine lets out a long slow breath, and then hands the microphone back to the singer.

He’s walking back across the dance floor to his table, when his grandfather intercepts him.

He’s a tall man, Blaine’s grandfather on his mom’s side. Cooper got his looks from that side of the family, while Blaine is pure Anderson. Blaine looks up at his grandfather as he claps him on the shoulders.

“Good job, big boy,” his grandfather says, calling him the pet name that his grandparents always called him as kid. “Your grandmother would be proud.”

“Thanks, Grandpa,” Blaine says, blushing.

“Now, where did the cabana boy run off to, I need my drink freshened.” Unfortunately his grandfather isn’t holding a drink. And obviously there are no cabana boys at this wedding. Blaine’s not entirely sure that his grandfather has ever received a drink from a cabana boy in his entire life.

At that moment, Blaine’s aunt catches up to him, and ushers him back to their table, but not before giving Blaine a wink, and telling him he did a good job.

Blaine is absolutely glowing with praise. And only more is heaped on him as he gets to the table he’s sharing with his parents, Kurt, Finn and his date, and Burt and Carole. Everyone agrees he did really well.

While he’s talking to his mom, Cooper bear hugs him from behind.

When Blaine turns, Cooper is grinning and shaking his head.

“I’m impressed. Really impressed. I was not expecting that.”

Blaine smiles. “Kinda s-s-s-seemed like the least I could do.”

“Not to get too heavy, but that letter changed your life?”

“Um, yeah. No one ever talked to, to, to mmm-me like that be-be-before. I don’t think anyone had ever been that … honest w-w-w-with me. And every time I r-r-ran into Kurt during my freshman year, I would think of how you told me to smile. The least I-I-I could do was smile. And you were right.”

“I was thinking all those things for a really long time. But I never wanted to say them, and upset you or something. And anytime your speech came up, Mom would get all quiet, and dad would get pissy, and I hated that they didn’t talk to you about it. Like it was some kind of … taboo. Anyway. So, I’m glad it worked.”

“It really did,” Blaine says.

Cooper pulls him in for a hug.

As the evening wears on, Kurt and Blaine dance, switching partners, meeting up for slow dances, taking shots at the bar with Blaine’s various cousins.

They find themselves leaning on the wall by the bar, alone together for once, and Blaine kisses Kurt’s cheek.

“I’m awfully happy you’re here with me,” Blaine whispers.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Kurt answers.

“I don’t just mmm-mean tonight,” Blaine says.

“I know what you mean,” Kurt inches to him closer on the wall, and rests his head on Blaine’s shoulder.

Soon after that, it’s time for their song.

Blaine retrieves the guitar his mom had put aside earlier, and he and Kurt make their way to the front of the room. Kurt takes the lead when they get there.

“Hi, I’m Blaine’s boyfriend, Kurt, in case you missed the newsflash. A couple months ago, Cooper asked Blaine and me if we would sing at his wedding. And really who are we to say no. We looked for the perfect song, and this is what we found.”

“This is Perfect for Me, b-b-by Ron Pope,” Blaine adds.

After a long discussion of what song to pick, they wanted to find something that would not only represent Cooper and Katinka, but basically represented love in its simplest form. The kind of love every couple understands.

In another way, though they might be singing this song for Cooper and Katinka, and every other couple, but just underneath that, it’s mostly for each other. The words are all so appropriate for them, it’s hard to ignore.

Blaine strums the beginning chords, and Kurt takes the first line.

You sit in the bathroom and you paint your toes

Then Blaine takes the next line.

I sit on the bed right now and I sing you a song

They alternate through the first verse, and into the chorus, smiling at each other.

It's not always easy, but somehow our love stays strong  
If I can make you happy, then this is where I belong

And I'd just like to say  
I thank god that you're here with me

Now Kurt takes over for a few lines, smiling out at the slow dancing crowd.

And I know you too well to say that you're perfect  
But you'll see, oh my sweet love, you're perfect for me

Kurt knows that Blaine is uncomfortable with the idea of being perfect. But Kurt is willing to spend the rest of his life showing Blaine how perfect he is. And if he won’t believe he’s perfect in general, he’ll damn well believe that he’s perfect for Kurt.

Kurt knows that Blaine is getting closer to understanding that everyday.

I know all your secrets, and you know all of mine  
You're always here to hold me up when I'm losing my mind  
I wish that I was stronger so that I had more to give  
I'll share everything I have and we'll find a way to live

They sing to the crowd, they sing to each other. The weight and meaning of the words are not lost on them.

They’ll find a way to live. Both literally, and figuratively. They move in together in a little over a week, and neither of them could be more excited.

And I'd just like to say  
I thank god that you're here with me  
And I know you too well to say that you're perfect  
But you'll see, oh my sweet love, you're perfect for me

Blaine still has trouble sometimes, understanding how it is that Kurt of all people, beautiful, wonderful, patient, kind, ineffable Kurt, thinks Blaine is perfect. But he understands more and more what it means to be perfect for someone.

Perfect in the way Kurt’s hand fits his waist, perfect in the way their noses never bump when they kiss, perfect in the way they trust each other implicitly.

Even after all this time, nothing else I ever find  
In this whole wide world can shake me like you do  
Its true that something so sublime that there aren't words yet to describe  
The beauty of this life I've made with you

These lines are the perfect ones for Blaine. He feels like he’d have to make up new words to describe Kurt the way he’d like to.

And thinking about it now, it really has been a long time. Three years, give or take, depending on when you start counting. Usually Blaine likes to count from the first email. The email that told him he was brave, and level-headed, and wanted.

Or maybe he should count from the first time he ever saw Kurt’s face. Not that he had any idea that he would ever even get to talk to that ethereal stranger.

Or maybe he should count from the first time they saw each other face to face, as Kurt and Blaine.

When Kurt saw Blaine, and Blaine saw Kurt.

Blaine doesn’t think it really matters when it gets down to it. The difference is only several months, and can’t compare to the lifetime ahead of them.

And I'd just like to say

There’s always so many things Kurt would like to say, and he always makes sure to say them. To let Blaine know how he’s feeling at any given moment, about pretty much everything. In some ways, it’s to make sure that Blaine knows that he has the license to talk. That talking doesn’t have to always be about important things. That if he wants to talk, he should talk.

That the whole point of having a relationship is communicating with the other person.

Kurt worried for a long time that Blaine would never quite understand that.

But now Kurt knows he does.

I thank god that you're here with me  
And I know you too well to say you're perfect  
But you'll see oh my sweet love you're perfect for me

And then they finish it together, because that’s the way it should be.

Perfect in the way their voices harmonize.

And I know you too well to say you're perfect  
But you'll see of my sweet love you're perfect  
Oh my love I swear you're perfect

Before they sing the last line, they make eye contact.

Yes I promise, you're perfect for me

And it’s true.


End file.
